Tickets this way for the Chatsworth Express!
Come and watch pikeys making a mess of the lives
they were given by him upstairs
and kids they're convinced aren't actually theirs.
What sounds on earth could ever replace
kids needing money or wives in your face?
Cos this, people reckon, and me included,
is why pubs and drugs were kindly invented
to calm us all down and stop us going mental.
These are Chatsworth Estate's basic essentials.
We are worth every penny for grinding your axes.
You shit on our heads, but you pay the taxes.
Imagine a Britain without Chatsworth buccaneers
who'd come on your face for the price of a beer.
Make poverty history, cheaper drugs now!
FRANK LAUGHS
Scatter.
Party!
CLOCK TICKING
NEWSPAPER RUSTLING
CLOTH SQUEAKING ON GLASS
Sorry.
This is fucking ridiculous.
SLURPING
(Jamie) It's a Friday night.
Oh, for fuck's...
CHATTING AND DANCE MUSIC
MUSIC STOPS
- (All) Hey! - All right! Fuck the law!
You can smoke inside.
CHEERING
(Man) Nice one, boys, nice one...
(Ian) Why? Why? Why would ya go and lie to me?
- (Micky) Listen, listen, listen... - (Ian) No, I'm not listening!
(Baby Stella) Look at them. Who are these people?
Never happier than when they can mix'n'match substances
in the company of like-minded dwellers of the underbelly.
How have they survived the evolution of the species?
Breeding like rabbits, kids having kids,
scavengers on the edge of society.
Maybe the tabloids are right.
Point and laugh, ridicule them, lock 'em up and throw away the key.
Why would anyone choose to live here and be amongst them?
I'm not sure I would. I'm not sure I'm gonna!
And they are my family, they are my people.
My name is Stella Gallagher.
Don't worry, it'll dawn on them eventually.
"What have we forgot?"Here we go. Three, two, one. Bingo.
Fuck.
Stella!
(Man) Oi! >
GROANING
This is your last fucking warning. Get it sorted by tomorrow,
or you're a dead man!
Cannon and Ball aren't dead, are...
Shane! Jamie!
(Kelly) Oi! Arsehole!
- What was all that about? - Don't know. I've never seen him before.
Honest, I haven't. Some fucking dickhead
handing out death threats to the wrong people.
Oh, hello.
The Ugly Police been using batons?
Fuck off!
- Norma's doing the cake. - Mmm!
Learnt to bake in jail, says it kept her in tobacco the whole stretch.
Yvonne's doing the curry. Lillian's girls are making the sandwiches,
and Karen's throwing in sausage rolls and chicken wings.
You should stick on a cover charge, you might make a profit.
So what time d'you think I should arrive?
I want you there at the start.
Then people'll know we're together.
I'll be 16 and we'll be legal.
Yeah, but they'll think it started before.
So what? You can't control what other people think, so why bother?
I'm not bothered.
(Eastern European accent) Church is strong, big numbers.
Many people from east of Europe come.
EU great for Catholics.
Yeah, cos that's what the country needs, more religious fundamentalists(!)
Exactly. Not weak, like Church of England,
with lady priests and embracing of the...homosexualists.
Baptism very serious business.
We do understand. We take religion very seriously. Don't we, Frank?
Oh, yeah, yeah. Fish on Friday, drink the blood of virgins,
self-flagellate on a regular basis.
I could be godfather.
CLEARS THROAT
What is this?
Baptismal vows I wrote myself. We were hoping, you know,
to personalise the service a little bit.
What are you? Hippy or something?
No, we're not into peace, or anything like that.
"Do you promise to renounce Satan, and all his works, and all his pomp..."
Blah, blah, blah... FRANK MOUTHS
"Do you promise..." CARL MOUTHS
"..to shower this child with a rainbow of love,
"and sprinkle on her head the stardust of each wondrous day?"
We do.
Oh, very much so, we do.
BABY CRIES
Excuse me, Father.
She's not feeding very well at the minute.
Oh, no, please - allow me to reluctantly drag myself away(!)
Carry on, Father. It gets better.
All right, settle down.
You see what you're responsible for?
Pope fucking Pious Head Up His Arse in there?
And you won't thank us for it, will ya,
when you'll be drinking cider on street corners like all the rest?
(Stella) Would you blame me?
Hello?
All this crap about showering me wi'love,
it's just words to you, innit?
Oh, yeah, very funny(!)
Rip the piss out of the sleep-deprived new father.
(Stella) The only sleep-deprivation you've ever suffered
has been caused by popping too many Es of a night in The Jockey.
Babies enter life pure,
but they lose their innocence when they're exposed to people like you.
What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?
Bit early to be mashed, innit, Dad?
No. Y-Yeah. Y-You're probably right.
(Stella) You ought to be sterilised, the lot of ya.
Being a parent should be a privilege, not a right.
Course it should.
I-I-I'll just leave this with ya.
(Priest)..Strike lightning for such blaspheming!
- (Monica) But Father! - (Priest) No buts. My decision is made.
Absolutely not.
No personal vows, tradition only.
- But Father...! - And think very carefully.
Not every Tom, Dick and Jerry can be godfather.
I could be godfather!
It's like communism never fucking happened. Frank?
Yeah... What? Yeah. What?
(Shane) Our baby, growing inside your belly.
We'll even have a picture after today, won't we?
It's only a scan, Shane.
It's like an X-ray of a peanut.
Tell you what is miraculous, though. I've got piles already.
God knows what they'll be like when I'm the size of a gable-end.
I'm sure your tits are getting bigger.
Easy, tiger!
Your 10.30's in, love. I should be charging you ground rent.
I'm security.
A face like that - you should be in security.
Best make myself scarce, then.
Come on, Shane, we've talked about this.
They pay extra cos I'm up the duff.
We'll need the cash.
You and this baby mean everything to me, to all of us.
I know. I'll see you later for the scan.
OK.
(Stella) There's been a mistake.
I shouldn't be with you and her.
Look at the pair of ya. This estate, what chance have I got?
The same as anybody else.
(Stella) Exactly - none.
Oh, no, please don't say that!
What, you can hear her as well?
Of course I can.
I'm her mother.
Well, thank you very much for fucking sharing.
- I thought I was going off my dinger! - Well, what was I supposed to say?!
"Oh, hello. Sorry, Frank, but I'm communing
"with the spirit of Caspar the Grumpy Baby?"
I'm a listener.
- Only when you're not talking. - You talk all the fucking...
(Stella) Oi, role models! Stop arguing for two minutes.
The deal's off.
I'm not feeding, I'm not sleeping.
I'm just gonna...go.
Oi, nip it, you!
You're upsetting your mother.
She carried you around for nine months, didn't she?
(Stella) All right, fair point.
She did manage to stay off the pills and the booze...mostly.
Tell you what, you find me five good men on the Chatsworth,
show that there's something decent about the place,
and I'll stick around, give it a go.
Well, how do we prove that? You want signed confirmation, or what?
Hello?! I'm trying to establish the rules of the game here.
She's been doing this for days, talking, then going quiet.
All right, all right.
Five good men - or women, I presume - on the Chatsworth? No sweat.
Salt of the earth, round here.
(Yvonne) It's hardly a curry without garam masala.
Just a bit of cardamom and chilli.
I know, but our toilet was like Piccadilly on a Saturday for two days.
All right. I'll keep it mild.
Something else?
No.
Everything all right, Tom?
Yeah, just a new community initiative.
No trouble in the precinct?
No, it's been dead.
Stan didn't say owt about a new initiative.
No, it's a secret. No-one knows.
- You're Debbie Gallagher, aren't you? - That's right.
Didn't I hear you've got a birthday coming up?
My sixteenth.
What you doing? I know that you go out with each other. Stan told me.
What? >
He's my partner, Tom.
We tell each other everything.
This is so embarrassing.
Debbie, wait!
That was so humiliating.
I know. I thought we could trust Stan.
That's not the point. It's bizarre, pretending we don't know each other.
If Yvonne knows, everyone probably does.
Trust me, it'll be worth it, they'll be off our backs.
No-one is on our backs, Tom.
(Lillian) Love's young dream!
Don't let me interrupt ya.
LOUD BANG
Fuck!
Are you determined to become a human punchbag, or what?
Sorry. I weren't paying attention.
- You don't look right good, mate. - Just a bit freaked out from last night.
Want me to see what I can find out?
No, leave it. It's not worth it.
You don't have to pay me or owt like that.
- I could do with t' practice. - Nah. Cheers, though.
What's the wood for?
It's a secret project. For Kelly.
Ian!
- It's not him! - What?
It's the wrong fucking geezer.
How is that red hair?!
Shit!
I came as soon as I heard. I've had me mobile off all day.
Oh, my God. He's in a coma!
No, he's not. They put him to sleep, to help his body get over the shock.
He had a miraculous escape. No broken bones or internal bleeding,
just stitches.
Was it the guy who nutted him outside The Jockey?
- I got the plate. - We don't want any trouble.
No. I'll just have a little chat with him about the Highway Code.
Ian, love.
How d'you feel?
Ian, son, it's me, your...adoptive father.
(Frank) Can you talk?
Liam, get a doctor.
Ian, say something.
Yeah, you're freaking us out.
Who the fuck's Ian?
# I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky... #
After ten o'clock, put 5p on a packet of 10, 10p on a packet of 20...
Hope you're hungry. Nothing like a teatime fry-up...Something wrong?
- It's just we're fasting, Stan. - It's not Ramadan.
It's Sawm.
(Meena) We do it every year for a week.
It don't matter. We're not looking to impose.
No. I'll do it as well. We're a family unit. Got to support each other.
For fuck's sake, Shane!
Twenty a day. Trying to keep the baby small, cos I'm too posh to push.
(Carl) What team do you support?
I don't know.
- United. - City.
Maybe something more cultural. Um...
What's your favourite uniform, firefighter or Household Cavalry?
Yeah, something a bit closer to home.
Do you remember your middle name, son?
That's a trick question. He hasn't got one.
We didn't give him a middle name?
Fuck, how poor were we?
Why aren't you dressed?
There's nothing wrong with you, bar a few stitches.
- We've had worse playground accidents. - But he hasn't got a memory.
I don't remember Saturday night, but you don't see me hogging a bed.
Come on! Chop chop! If you want R&R, check into The Priory.
Oh, yeah! You'd love that!
Clear the wards, replace them with high-priced rehabilitation
for the working classes, which...
Yeah, whatever. Give him his clothes.
- They cut 'em off him. - Didn't you bring any spare?
Did you?
You know what the weirdest thing is?
I don't know any of you.
Don't know who my mates are.
Couldn't even say if I had a girlfriend or not.
We'll have to tell him.
No, we don't. This could be a second chance.
Second chance for what?
Not to be a poof. He might not remember he fancies blokes.
It's not a choice, it's part of you, like the colour of your eyes, or...
your favourite curry or something.
Mum, you know when you was a dyke? Did you choose it,
or was it in your genes?
Ah, discussing the girlfriend problem, are we?
Well, I've no idea how you tell someone
they're too plug to have ever had a bird.
I suggest we keep it between ourselves, shall we?
Oh, look at you!
He looks like an old man.
- Who give you that shirt? - Oxfam?!
I don't give a toss. Get here in 20 minutes.
Terrible thing, amnesia. Imagine not being able
to remember your loved ones, or what kind of pies you like.
He might be fine, back to normal.
Not with brain injuries.
They can completely change your character.
I'm so sorry. I've been looking for you everywhere.
- I went to hospital with Ian Gallagher. - We heard. How is he?
He don't know if it's Christmas or Crackerjack.
Crackerjack!
Well?
What?
The scan. I want to see a picture of the baby.
They didn't do it. Needs two of you there. I'm tired.
And what's wi' sawdust?
Terrible thing, amnesia.
Imagine not being able to remember your loved ones,
or what kind of pies you like.
- Easy! Stitches! - Sorry.
I'm Mandy,
your brother's ex-partner,
mother of your niece.
And mate.
I'm gonna have to start writing this down.
This is the...kitchen.
And this is the...kettle.
I know what stuff is.
Listen, I'm shattered and I wouldn't mind a kip.
Of course, love. Well, show him his room, then.
Get him some clothes. It's his memory he's lost, not his fashion sense.
I've got some magazines to show you.
Not the ones with animals. Don't wanna confuse him.
Did the baby feed?
Not a drop.
Been upstairs a couple of hours.
I've checked on her, but she's just lying there awake.
- How about her? - Yeah, she's all right.
Or her?
Look, just give us a rest, will you?
Franny Gower?
Boiled his neighbour's parrot on the stove. Said it were abusive.
Xavier O'Neill?
Cut his mother up in the bath.
What about old Aggie Palmer? Nobody's ever had a bad word to say about her.
They kicked her out the sheltered housing.
- She never needed that wheelchair. - Fuck! There must be somebody!
I mean, good's a relative concept.
So if we could get her to be more specific, or lower the number.
(Stella) Fine. One good person. Not five.
One. That's all you need to find, and you'll be up shit creek with that.
Hey, language! No swearing before you're six months.
She's right. What does "good" mean?
One person's good man is another person's arsehole.
Look at Terry Waite. Moaning bastard.
Tick, tock...
- It's not a game! -..tick, tock, tick...
Hey! Alexander the Great ruled half of Asia by the time he was your age.
Stop wasting your mystical, fucking, talking-baby powers tormenting us!
What you doing?
New parenting technique, all the rage.
Compare your baby to great figures from history. It helps them be high achievers.
We're off out.
How are you feeling?
Fine.
Norma. Live in the Dormobile out back.
Why?
Oh, this should be good.
Oh, hi.
RAP MUSIC PLAYING
(Muffled voice) Anyone there? Please let me out!
Let me out. It wasn't me. You've got the wrong man.
Honestly, it wasn't me. I'll find who did it.
How d'you get on?
Fuck all.
- What? - You?
THEY SIGH
I know!
Old Harry. He ran the Scouts and the Boys' Club.
- Harry, Lollipop Man. - Yeah.
OBE!
Would you like a sweetie?
- (Children) Yes, please. - Oh, for fuck's sake!
Thanks a fucking bunch, Harry! You were me safe bet.
Ooh! CHILDREN LAUGH
Hiya, Carl.
You all right?
- You're popular. - That's Patsy Bell.
Gave four of us a seeing to last summer, behind the Reccy.
Not as popular as you. You're a right shagger.
The girls round here are totally into you.
Surprised you're not a dad ten times over.
Bollocks.
Lick it, you buy it. All right?!
Like her. She was mad into you for ages.
Husband left cos of it.
Did we...?
Yeah, all the time.
Hiya, love. How's your head?
Cool. Just getting back to myself.
Just gonna go for a walk.
Maybe once I'm back on my feet,
we can... spend some time together.
Whatever it is you've been saying to him, pack it in!
What you doing?
Nothing.
Not cruising for company, are ya?
Not got an itch to scratch?
No.
You're a homo.
What?
A homosexual. A man who fancies other...
Yeah, I know what a homosexual is.
Well, that's you.
You're full of shit.
It's true!
You were one even before I was.
Well, before I admitted it.
So how come I've shagged all those women?
What women?
The one at the shop, she were one of them.
I saw her a minute ago. She was totally into me.
- Who? Yvonne? - Yeah.
You never shagged her.
You shagged her husband.
You're sick.
You did!
And you loved him.
And his name was Kash.
- Have you got a pink car? - You're remembering.
- What you doing? - Taking in the air.
- Has it all come flooding back? - Not really.
A bit.
It's bizarre, I keep getting this feeling, I don't know if I'm happy
or if I'm not.
Nobody's happy.
It's only in retrospect, looking back, you think,
"Fuck, that was a good time."
So how do I know if I'm doing the right thing with my life?
Do I look like Oprah?
Who?
Just follow your gut.
- See where it takes you. - Is that what you did?
I have the face I deserve, son - make your own judgment.
What does that mean?
Fucked if I know.
You've got to show support.
I mean, Yvonne's great.
Never been any pressure for me to convert or anything.
It's the least I can do.
And besides, it's got to stand me in good stead, hasn't it?
Brownie points in the... personal stakes.
What, sex?
No monkey business during fasting, Stanley.
Didn't she tell ya?
It's about self-control, patience,
atonement for us faults and misdeeds, cleansing your inner soul.
I gave up chocolate for Lent 16 years running...but no sex?
The whole point of being in a relationship is that...
It'll be worth it, Stan.
You'll feel better about yourself,
and you'll have earned it when it comes.
What? The food?
- Or the other? - Both.
At the same time?
What's the big mystery?
Did somebody die?
Just, er, sit down.
This is Caley Quigley, she's an Aislingeach.
I'm sorry, I'm none the wiser.
A Dreamer, an Irish visionary.
She sees things other people can't.
- Still don't get it. - She can tell us all about the baby,
if he's healthy and happy and what sex he might be.
And all she'll have to do is put her hands on your belly.
She will fucking not!
Wait, Kel, come on, this is important.
Her mother was an Aislingeach, and her grandmother before that.
Caley has dreamt of every child born into this family.
Her hands know my womb better than I know it meself.
Please.
Fine.
Grope away.
Relax.
You'll probably feel a wee tingling go through you,
but it's nothing to be alarmed about.
It's very early in the pregnancy.
If I could just...
I see a boy.
A big, healthy, hairy boy.
(Mimi) I knew it!
The seed of my son is strong!
I am so tired, me eyeballs feel like they've been dipped in vinegar.
- D'you think we're sick? - That's not easy to say.
Some people think you're born with it,
others think that it's nurture over nature.
With you, being a dyke was more a lifestyle choice, wasn't it?
I'm not talking about Norma and me, I'm talking about us.
Our daughter's talking to us through some sort of baby telepathy.
I think it means we are good parents.
I feel...
that I have a particularly strong bond with her.
So, er, what's her middle name?
It's something weird, in't it?
Brian?
Mum, she's freaking me out, she keeps staring all the time.
Iana.
Her middle name's Iana.
Think I prefer Brian.
Jamie, get yourself
into that dusky cellar, remove a crate of your finest champagne and bring it here.
- None of your sparkling wine shite. - What's the occasion?
It's a boy. A healthy, bouncing, baby boy.
- You're looking well on it, Kelly. - How far gone are you?
Thirteen weeks.
Caley Quigley were over, and everything is exactly as it should be.
Well, congratulations again...Debbie.
- I-I'd better be going. - Nonsense, you're going nowhere.
Get yourself and this lovely girlfriend of yours a drink on me.
In fact, drinks all round.
She's not my girlfriend.
Of course she is. You've been seeing each other for...
For months. What are you doing?
Oh, my God!
Does everybody know?
It seems like it.
Well, this is a disaster.
You're only concerned with what other people think.
We've only been going out a couple of months.
It should be young and carefree and fun.
It is fun.
When was the last time you surprised me, did something wild?
I do wild things.
No, you don't.
You act like you're...
old.
(Voice on radio) PC19 to base.
PC19 to base.
I have to go.
Thanks, Doctor.
That was about as useful as an echo in a coffin.
He says there's nothing physically wrong with her.
- Yeah, well... - We could always take her to casualty.
What, on a weekend, in the Chatsworth?
She's really still.
Her eyes don't even follow you when you move.
(Stella) You couldn't find one, could ya?
Not one good person on this whole estate.
We're still trying.
Don't waste your time. I'll be gone, and we can all move on.
Why don't you have a little milk,
and then a nap, and we can carry on looking tomorrow?
Why are you saying stuff to her?
We're communicating, son, just...
Just listen.
It's nothing personal, you know? I don't hate you. It's just...
I'd hoped for more.
But will you try, baby?
(Frank) Talk to us, sweetheart.
Whatever it is...
..I promise too.
Anything?
I'm sorry if I hurt ya.
It were a long time ago.
And you were...you are a good lad.
Weren't down to you.
Doesn't exactly look like the venue
for the high point in anybody's life, though, does it?
Were it?
I can remember it.
Ian, stop reminiscing and come with me.
Shane got the licence plate.
Couple of phone calls.
- Present...from the family. - What am I supposed to do with them?
Anything you like, they tried to kill you.
Which one first? Left or right?
- What? - You know, eeny-meeny-miney-moe.
- No. - I can do 'em, if it bothers you.
Me Dad and Shane normally do this sort of stuff,
but how hard can it be?
No, I mean...
I might not know who I am,
but I know I'd rather fuck them than chop 'em up.
What?
Is this what my life's been like?
Sneaking around, scared to tell anyone I'm gay,
but happy to get involved in murder?
No, not the murder bit. We mainly keep that in the family.
I don't want this, Micky.
- Why would I want to remember this? - But they're hoodlums.
Not them, everything.
All of it. My whole fucking...so-called life.
Ian!
Hello?
Please, baby, please.
Your mother's in there throwing up rings round herself with worry.
We'll try, we will try.
I mean, we've been trying...
Please, please, please...
# Don't go breaking my heart
# I won't go breaking your heart
# Don't go breaking my heart Don't go breaking my
# I won't go breaking your heart
# Oh, don't go breaking my
# I won't go breaking your heart #
Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention.
Sorry for interrupting your drinking,
but I'd like you to join me in extending your best wishes
to the Birthday Girl...
and my girlfriend, Debbie Gallagher.
CHEERING
Time to open the gifts, I think.
Me first.
- For fuck's sake, hurry up! - Go on.
It's a key to our flat.
I put down the deposit this evening.
Who says I can't be wild, eh?
Say something.
I don't want to live with you, Tom.
Debbie...
wait!
What do you mean you don't want to live with me?
What made you think I would?
- Well, you love me, don't you? - Of course I do.
But I'm not ready to make a commitment like that.
How am I supposed to know what you want, Debbie?
You know, "Do something wild, surprise me," you said.
- Yeah, but not like this. - Then like what, Debbie?
It's like dealing with a child sometimes.
I-I don't mean that.
Well, I do...
a bit.
You want to be wild and carefree and passionate and unpredictable, fine.
But I've got a job and concerns and responsibilities.
You can laugh at me for trying to get us off on a respectable footing
with the people who live round here, but one of us has to.
I'm 16. I don't care about being respectable.
Well, I do.
I've never had it.
I never grew up with a family.
You want to wing it and be a teenager, I don't.
I've been there, and truth be told,
I didn't really enjoy it the first time round.
So what do we do?
I don't think I even have to say it.
No, don't follow me.
Come wi' me.
Since when did you turn into an international man o' mystery?
I don't know if I can take any more surprises, Shane.
Come on.
Jamie!
This is why all the sawdust.
Inside of my mouth's been like a butcher's floor for the past few days.
Da-da!
I wanted to build him one meself, before anybody bought him one.
- It needs a... - I'm not pregnant, Shane.
It's a...pseudocyesis,
a phantom pregnancy... like hysterics get.
What about the dream?
She must have been dreaming about somebody else. I had the scan, Shane.
Here's the baby.
It's non-existent, Shane.
It's an empty fucking space.
Seems I'm having some kind of breakdown.
I either want a baby too much,
or I don't want one at all, they can't tell me.
All I do know is my fucking stupid body made it up,
so I'm sorry, but I can't give you a son, or a daughter, or anything.
- No, don't touch me. - Mum.
SOBS
How you doing?
You shouldn't be going steady at your age, any road.
At least not with someone who's old enough to be your grandfather.
I just feel so stupid,
getting so teary over a boy. You're the one
- with the real problems. - Cheers(!)
You know what I mean.
I'm remembering stuff.
Well, some stuff.
And...?
I can't believe that's all there is,
that I've settled for what I've got.
You haven't settled.
Everyone thinks the sun shines out your arse.
Not about what other people think, though, is it?
Carl's right.
No, he's not!
About the gay thing.
About it being a second chance.
I've got to make changes, Debs.
Get shot of the carrots, Ches.
After sundown, all bets are off.
What have you got?
What have I not got? Must have nearly every dish on Ashoka's menu.
Have you really had nothing to eat or drink, sunrise to sunset?
Two days now. I'm really starting to feel the benefit.
Didn't think you were up to it.
I can understand supporting us during Ramadan, but Sawm's voluntary.
That's going the extra mile.
Voluntary?
Sawm is voluntary. Not compulsory, voluntary.
Yeah, I know.
Chicken jalfrezi and a lamb bhuna. Get upstairs.
- But... - Now!
Mum?
(Tom) Debbie! Please, we have to talk.
Debbie!
Oi, I've got a baby sleeping in there, or not sleeping.
She's still in there.
I want to talk to her.
That's a woman's prerogative, son. Lesson number one.
I said I want to talk to her!
Argh!
- What did you do that for? - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Just... Because you picked the wrong night.
There's been enough crying round here. I'm not having it.
I've got a gun.
Yeah, and right now I don't give a monkey's fart if you use it.
I've got a wife and daughter in there,
both of whom are going to need scraping off the floor later.
So go on, do your worst.
Fine.
I'll use it on myself.
Dad?
Go inside, Carl.
- You don't understand. - I can't make you out, you've got the...
You don't understand. I love her!
I've got nine kids by two different women,
both of whom are beautifully demented in their own unique manner.
You think I haven't shed tears?
We could have made it if it wasn't for everybody else.
There's always someone to blame.
I'll tell you something I do know, though.
When it goes bad,
no matter how hard you try, you'll never get it back again.
Never!
So just gather yourself up, and move on.
I'd rather die.
Then think on this, Constable.
That is my daughter in there,
and if you ruin her life
by blowing your charming, but deeply flawed, Celtic brains
all over my back yard,
I will piss on your grave each and every fucking day!
That I promise you!
Don't be a daftie, give me that.
- Is everything all right? - Yeah, yeah.
Think there's a lad could do with an escort home, Stan.
Of course. I'll just get dressed.
Come in, Tom.
Oh, how...?
I don't know. She wouldn't stop crying,
and I didn't know what else to do, and she hasn't come up for air.
Oh.
So what's the story, morning glory?
(Stella) I'm proud of you, Dad.
I baptise you Stella Iana Princess Gallagher,
in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost.
Amen.
Thought you might want these.
Only if you two will be godparents.
- Can I be the bloke? - I don't mind.
Do you promise to shower this child
with a rainbow of love,
and sprinkle on her head the stardust of each wondrous day?
(Both) We do.
- What you doing? - Going away for a bit.
You haven't had your stitches out.
They're dissolving ones. It'll be fine.
- Where are you going? - I don't know yet.
I've got some money in the bank, or so the statement says.
I'll see where I end up.
- Do you hate us? - God, no. I love ya.
It's just...remembering stuff you'd forgotten about yourself.
It's exciting, but it's disappointing too.
- And I don't want disappointments. - Will you write to us?
I'll phone you. It's not the 18th-fucking-century.
- Shouldn't you tell the rest of them? - You tell them for me.
They've had a rough few days.
- But you'll come back? - Course I will.
You'd fucking better.
Oi! Just cos you're 16, don't mean you can swear.
(Stella) So maybe the tabloids are wrong and we - yes, we -are not all so bad.
So what if we wear our hearts and our appetites on our sleeves?
Who's to judge? You?
Life shouldn't be bland.
You get one shot.
Life should be devoured like the feast that it is -
Keith Richards on a bender - and that's why I'm sticking around.