Anyone watching thinking we know fuck all
about knowing fuck all about owt, needs to watch their back...
So you've had your Labour, reclassifying skunk,
sending prices sky-high...
literally, literally taking the grass from its own roots!
Now you've got your condemnation.
Liberals noshing Tories like altar boys picking dimps up!
Have we had a national fucking stroke, or what?!
Is revolution a word...
or was it never?
Anybody watching needs to know,
we cope better than average with irony in Chatsworth.
Well, for fuck's sake, we live in Manchester
and they charge us for water.
I wandered lonely as a clown, necking mushrooms rarely found,
this green and pleasant land in ancient times...
Yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak!
It's not theirs any more.
This is our England now!
Paaaarty!
I don't do navel gazing.
I don't believe in it.
Boo-hoo-hoo, the reason I'm such an arsehole
is because my mammy never tucked me in at night and read me a story.
Fuck that.
But this guilt - it's a seductive bastard.
Swelled up, washed over and carried me off
before I knew where I was, so I find meself here.
Seeing him, night after night, day after day.
Can't fucking shake him.
Now I'm a grief junkie, addicted to guilt.
The knot in my chest, the bile in my gut...
I barely fucking recognise myself.
Hey!
Thank you.
I'm so grateful.
Is this what it's like to be weak?
Hey, there you go. Good lad.
Tomorrow morning, 5.30 - I want you out your kip, rod in hand,
if not I'll come and drag you.
You're not my dad, you know.
I can't tell you how much I appreciate
all the time you've given him.
He's a good kid. I enjoy it.
He's had problems, even before his Dad died.
Well he's a teenage lad - life's a problem.
Anyway, I won't take up any more of your time.
Actually, I wanted to ask a favour.
Eddie's sister's a total psycho, always getting her digs in.
When we got married, we moved over here,
so I kind of adopted all Eddie's mates.
I'm a little bit isolated...
No relatives offering help?
I need someone to help me choose his headstone.
It's too weird, I'm sorry, I hardly know you.
His sister's probably got the right, anyway...
I'd be glad to help.
There's a couple of psychos in my family - I know how that feels.
Just let me know, yeah?
Thanks. Danny?
Do you want another cuppa?
Hey, he's pretty nice, what do you think?
All right, isn't he?
I know these give the right impression and that,
but I don't remember anyone from the Sopranos
drinking out of these dickhead little cups.
You on a drought or summat?
She can feel you nudging her from here.
Fuck off!
I'm looking for someone. Someone in particular.
What? Big tits, small tits, blonde, brunette?
Ginger - that's a fetish, you know...
No!
I keep having this dream - the same dream...
I keep having one of them as well - has it got a dolphin in?
A sex dream.
Yeah, so?
Same thing, every night.
It's incredible. She's perfect, totally perfect.
I can't get her out my mind, I need to find her.
Do you spunk in your PJs?
I don't wear fucking PJs.
I feel like I've seen her, like I know her, but...
What are you going to do if she walks past?
Chuck a brick at her head? You're shit at talking to girls you.
No, I'm not!
Mate, come on.
Yeah.
You're right, better looking they are, the worse I get.
Look, I can give you lessons.
What I do, right, is I stare at them, into their soul.
I draw them in. It's irresistible, watch.
Mate...
Just watch!
Oh, for fuck's sake...
What you doing?
I'm a working man now, it's been a while.
Don't suppose there's any chance of a...?
Y'know what I mean...?
You being serious?
Uh-huh.
Well, hang on.
Kelly, you are a beaut... You're a woman, and I have needs.
All right, look, wait...
Mates rates?
Just a nosh?
It's not you...
it's me.
You can't say that, we're not married!
One of the few perks of this job
is that I get to decide - always.
Yeah, it was a stupid idea, anyway.
I've seen you trying to bleach your 'tache.
Wouldn't be able to get the picture out my head.
And I couldn't do it to Marty, anyway,
I mean look at his little face.
You filthy boy!
Fuck!
Tell me you're not going to slip my wife a length, Danny/Shane?
First you cave my head in and bolt, hit and run, then befriend my son...
which is creepy enough on its own, by the way,
and worm your way into me home
and now you're looking to pump me missus!
My lovely, mourning missus,
with that dirty little Irish cock of yours?
It's just fucking bad manners.
And what's with the pretendy name, eh?
This is not going to end well.
What's going on?
What?
You smashed a plate.
Yeah, I did. I, eh...
Tell your mum I had to shoot off, yeah?
Tomorrow morning, 5.30 sharp.
Can you get the door?
Where you headed, Sparky?
Across the road to that new family...
they've been there a month and haven't got a proper curtain up yet.
How many times?
It's not a family, it's a knocking shop - it's competition!
But they call the older one "Mum".
They call her "Ma'am" - means "Madam", the one who runs the gaffe.
Well you lot don't call me "Madam".
We call you "certifiable".
And we're hardly going to crush them with cake!
But, I like to be good a neighbour.
They want to put you out of business, Lillian,
and everyone here out of a job!
Right.
I preferred it when you didn't have two pence to rub together.
Yeah, well so did...
Learn to take a compliment.
You've had enough, time to head off home.
Got the horn...
I need to de-juice...
Urgh!
You're less offensive-looking than you used to be.
Flattered as I am, I'm taken.
Put your money away, and pop off home.
Don't even fucking think about it, knobheads.
Explicit sex dreams tell us a lot.
Details are a big indicator of our anxieties, our fears,
our hopes in life.
Fear of not getting laid, hopes that we do.
Yeah.
And does she say anything to you, this girl in your dreams?
Does she talk to you?
Yeah, mainly, "Oh, yeah, faster..."
"Right there, please!"
What the fuck's wrong with you?
You're never here, and when you are you're miles away.
I'm sorry, what was the joke?
Urgh!
Stop that stupid staring!
It's not seducing me, it's just creepy!
Oh, you fucking weirdo.
Told you it don't work!
It does work! Argh!
Yes, is the answer.
And very nice it was, too.
They let you stay the night?
Well, they didn't turf me out or rob me.
How much?
I've nothing to compare it to - never had to pay...
How much, Frank? You know what we charge.
Half.
Fuck!
Are you gay?
No.
Are you?
Fuck off.
Why d'you keep looking at me?
I'm trying to find something to say
that'll help you not be such a miserable little bastard.
My dad died!
Yeah, that's not a license to be a dick all the time.
You have to get past this.
Have you got any drugs?
Not for you.
I'm off down the shops.
He won't be back.
They'll be next.
It was an accident.
The boy'll be found hanging from a tree by the end of the year
and his mother'll develop a vodka and pills habit and run with it.
How does that feel?
Feels good, does it?
Take your time, Ches. I've nothing planned for the day
You've got a fucking nerve.
I don't want any trouble.
So what do you want?
Chewing gum. Maybe some mouthwash.
Opening up directly across the road is an act of war.
We're just trying to make a living.
You're practically giving it away!
Louise decides on that stuff - prices, rota, shifts.
You'll need to talk to her.
We fucking will.
And shortly after, you'll be pulling down the shutters for good.
We haven't got any shutters.
Are you busking? Should we throw coins?
I've got a box of lo-cal but it's out of date...
It's you - from the dream.
Fantasy Girl's a hooker. Delightful.
What about the granite with gold lettering?
'Granite's for arseholes! Go on, tell her.'
Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good.
'Oh, you bollocks.'
I'll go and have a word with him.
'Never saw this coming, did you? Shopping for gravestones.'
I didn't even want to meet them. I was going to watch from a distance,
make sure they were all right. That's all.
But you did meet 'em!
Nice little ready-made family, eh?
Tidy little broken-in wifey?
Watch your mouth.
Oh, he likes her. I fucking knew it.
Your funeral weren't exactly bursting at the seams.
By all accounts, you're a bit of an arsehole.
Oh, that's right, yeah, justify it.
Forgive yourself. That's where this is heading, eh?
Maybe you did them a favour by killing the nasty husband and father?
This'd be where you apologise.
I am... sorry.
Not good enough. Too easy.
'I don't accept.'
Oh, yeah...
What the fuck are you doing?
Hasn't worked since last year.
I know your wife.
As long as I don't bother her, she don't mind.
Ohh!
Ohh.
Dirty bastard.
Credit card payments, online booking,
profile of every girl, so's a selection can be made in advance.
My girls know exactly when they're working, for how long, and with whom.
She said "with whom".
Live web-cam in one of the rooms upstairs.
I've got another one on the girl in the window.
You're not worried about getting busted, being so... in-your-face?
We're well-connected.
Assuming she can't actually hump out there for public consumption,
how does she get paid?
She doesn't.
We all have to take our turn, raise the profile of the place.
This is all wrong.
It's efficient.
It might be the oldest profession
but it's still a dirty secret for a reason.
And that would be...?
That it is dirty!
And risky and wrong. It's part of its lasting appeal.
You serve it up with lattes and frappuccinos, and you make it...
What?
Just another transaction.
Would that be so bad?
Depends. Does the coffee come free with the girl,
or the girl with the coffee?
You're smart. There's a job here if you want it.
You're going to wear a hole in t'carpet.
They didn't even have carpets across the way, did you notice?
There's room enough for two brothels.
No, sweetheart, there isn't. That's the whole fucking point.
25 girls on her books!
Students paying their tuition,
single mums boosting their income,
fucking credit cards, discreet billing.
It's not right, is it?
T'internet's not for sex.
I've been saying it for months
that we had to make changes,
and now it's too late.
We are so fucked.
Don't do anything I wouldn't with this.
It's coffee. I was going to drink it.
What would you use it for?
I... I'd drink it.
That might be the lamest thing I've ever seen.
Shut up.
You get your fair share
of silly little tarts with less underwear than sense
so I never had you down as a foot-in-mouth merchant.
I'm not!
Usually.
Only when it matters.
Tell me you're not thinking you can win the fair heart of the hooker?
Oh!
Well, perhaps she'll give it all up,
cook your tea of an evening, and breed little shop-children for you?
Yeah, laugh it up.
I could help.
Oh, excellent. Now you're a knicker-sniffer.
Fuck off.
Maybe they've found out, done a runner, called the cops.
Sorry.
Wondering where you'd got to. Thought I'd turned up a bit early.
Unscheduled stop at school.
Suspended.
He's a trophy masturbator.
Or a danger wanker.
He... masturbates in public places...
on the bus, in the dining hall,
the school library...
We thought we'd put an end to it.
Nothing for almost a year,
and then Eddie died.
This is the second incident since the funeral.
School and police have been patient, you know,
circumstances and all that,
but no more.
Next time, it'll be the children's panel.
What stopped him the first time?
Months of counselling
and eventually,
the back of Eddie's hand.
What can I say? I'm old-fashioned.
I won't have him hit again.
Course not.
How you going to sort this one out, Super-Danny? Danger wanking?
I'm best off out of it.
All right, girls?
Fancy a drink?
What are we having?
You're not going to serve them, are you?
We're a pub, Kel. It's what we do.
Hiya.
Er, four vodkas, please.
OK.
So what do you think?
Love pad?
It'd be like living inside a messy boy's pocket,
and smells like it.
No disrespect, but how can you help me?
Because women weren't invented in 2001 by Simon Cowell.
We've been around a while.
I could tell you what to say.
I was chatted up once or twice in my time.
By men?
By fecking llamas! What do you think?
Attach this to your phone.
I'll hear what you say, and what she says.
And I can instruct you what to say via this.
Stick it in your lug.
It's a Cyrano de Bergerac thing.
What? Is that Irish?
What if it doesn't work?
Ah.
Can you hear me?
Argh! Shit!
I adjusted the volume to max.
Why are you not working tonight?
I'm on call. See? Me beeper.
Who's watching t'shop?
There's nobody in so I thought I'd come and see you.
Oh, aye?
I think we can go all modern.
I've got a fella coming to lay laminate,
I can get a subsidy for a lap-top from t'social cos of my age, and...
I can do credit cards.
You don't get it, do you?
Click-flooring and carbon copies won't make a difference!
Whoa. Take it easy.
It's not just how the shop's run. It's you, Lillian!
It's everything about you. The world's moved on
and you're still stuck in Abigail's fucking Party.
I can change.
No, you can't!
But I can.
That job offer still stand?
Breaking and entering.
You're a regular A-Z of criminal behaviour.
She gave me a key. She trusts me.
Why are you rifling through her knicker drawer?
I'm looking for proof.
Of what?
Of the fucking scumbag I know you are! Were.
And when you find this proof, what then?
Everybody sleeps a little easier, mourns a little less.
You sure that's what she needs to hear...
that maybe her dead husband didn't love her as much as she thinks?
I'd hide it in the bottom.
You were good to yourself.
Life's for living, mate. No pockets in a shroud, evidently.
Weekend breaks, florists, gifts.
She didn't know about any of this, did she?
Every man has his secrets.
Why would you risk it, fuck it all up? This place, her?
I didn't fuck it up.
Was all going great till you came along.
She loved me.
And the boy?
He's... He's delicate. I thought we'd fixed him.
Oh, that's... That's on me as well, is it?
Better watch the time.
She catches you up here, she'll be asking for that key back!
'Is she there?'
Yeah, she's here.
Pardon?
Not you.
Can she see you?
Yeah. She sees me.
Pardon?
Her!
Cross to her then.
My mouth's gone all dry.
Pardon?
I will kick you in the bollocks if you speak again.
I had to tell you that I dream about you.
"I had to tell you that I dream about you."
Beautiful dreams, wondrous dreams,
dreams that swell my heart.
Are you sure, Patty?
Fecking say it!
"Beautiful dreams, wondrous dreams, dreams that swell my heart."
I can't hear you, shopboy.
But you must take your hand off the window or Louise will get...
She's touching my hand through the glass.
I'd like to walk with you, just once, take your arm in mine.
Fuck off! I'm not saying that.
If you're chasing romance, you need to.
'I'm not chasing romance.'
I want to ride her, like in my dreams.
You're an arsehole!
I never said I wanted to marry her, have babies and a Volvo!
Nor did you tell me
it was about dipping your filthy little apology for a penis.
That's cos you never asked.
You just jumped in, all Sir Stano di... whatever.
Cyrano de Bergerac.
I don't speak fucking Irish!
I hope your appendage drops off from lack of use.
That's hardly fucking likely, is it?
You should have your own show.
Why do you do it, toss off in public?
Breaks your mum's heart, you know.
And don't give me that shit about your dad,
because it was going on long before.
Bored.
Sit! Down.
Oh, I see it now. You are like him.
Listen, if I have to clip you, I won't feel guilty.
Is that what you're 'ere for, cos you feel guilty?
You don't even know us.
Uh-oh, do you think he knows?
Nah, he can't do.
Must be wondering why a stranger's sniffing round his mother.
I am not...
I knew this lad at school once, right?
He took a kicking at break. Shat himself in the process.
Today, he's a teacher or an accountant.
Summat that requires fucking work anyway.
The point is, to everyone round our way,
he's still known as the boy that shat himself. Always will be.
Is that really what you want?
To be the lad that spunks himself?
Spunky Sean?
Keep your pecker in your pants, eh?
Was it you, Shane?
Was it you who did a poo-poo in your pants at school?
Just made it.
Or a little late, but let's not split hairs.
So, what's the scores on the doors?
It will be slow until we've got your profile and some pictures online.
Can't expect them to book blind.
Course not.
Every girl's responsible for their own profile,
escorting and full service. Are you computer literate?
Four days Business Admin at school.
I shop, therefore I am.
In the meantime, it's just passing trade,
though you'll soon build up your own client base.
Don't want to blow my own trumpet, but I breed loyalty.
Often by blowing their trumpets, but...
If I'm going to be sitting around,
I might as well sit around in there and drum up some business.
'How long do you plan on hanging around?'
Could ask you the same question.
I'm your guilty conscience, you tell me.
Feeling good about yourself?
Caused more harm than good? Know what I think?
Oh, enlighten me.
I think you won't be right until you own up.
Until you tell the less-than-merry widow that you killed her husband.
Might still be a chance for you, if you're honest.
Hiya.
Did you talk to Sean?
Uh-oh, you fucked up.
He went to football training. The first time since Eddie died.
Good.
Thanks.
Ooh, 'ere she is.
Come on, let the 'tache see the gash.
Get...
For what it's worth, I think you're a cunt.
Danny?
I'm going to toss most of this stuff, at last.
But this...
Eddie never wore it.
Cos I prefer to not look like a tit.
Seems a shame. I'm sure it'll fit.
Oh, you're her bitch now.
She's giving you gifts.
Either that, or she's completely flipped, full bhuna mental.
I like it.
How're you finding it?
It's different.
Are you on?
Not till next week. Fingers crossed.
I meant, on the job. I won't ask about your cycle till my second day.
Two o'clock, father and son. Hoping Dad's just chaperone.
Cherry-popper.
What are you doing here?
Why aren't you in college, or travelling, or something?
Just because she gave you a bed, doesn't mean she owns your soul.
Louise has been wonderful to me.
Are you two...?
No! That's disgusting.
But a father and son is just a "two o'clock".
What you have to understand is that without engagement of the heart,
you might as well be pulling your own plonker.
What you don't understand is, I really want her.
It's like a physical pain.
Why would you think I don't understand the pain of longing?
Cos I have a pension book?
This is the age
at which you will make your memories.
And they have to last you a lifetime, so they'd better be good.
I treasure mine very much.
You have to earn her.
But that's what I was doing.
Respect her.
Think about what the girl does for a living.
She's an object 12 hours a day.
Now think about how great it would be for her,
if she thought you considered her more
than just a repository for your clumsy fuck.
'Look at you, sitting there drinking your Frappuccino,
'like you're not a scumbag.'
Yeah.
'You have actually stole my life. Do you want my coat an' all?'
I mean these stains'll come out in a boil wash.
Yak, yak, fucking yak!
Change the record. You stepped out into the road, get over it.
Why shouldn't I have the life?
The fucking woman, the boy, the home why? C'mon, why not me?
Are you fucking better than me, are you? You deserve it, I don't?
I'm supposed to just get back in my fucking box, know my place?
I could...
I could care for 'em, right?
Careful what you wish for. Just ask your mate there.
Only drinks bought on the premises, Shane.
It's weird seeing you doing a shift somewhere else.
I'm going to bring the place down from the inside - Trojan Hooker.
It's not healthy, Shane.
Talking to schizophrenic ghosts just cos you feel so bad for her.
Technically, you'd be the schizophrenic one, not the ghost.
Even widows have to move on sometime.
I just don't see why you...
I killed him.
I hit him with a motor, a couple of months ago.
9 weeks, 4 days as it goes.
Did you stop?
Course I did.
He'd had a skinful and...
...he was dead at the scene.
I just didn't see who benefits...
if I get banged up for five years.
No.
You have to stop seeing this woman, immediately.
He was a prick to her, Kelly.
Other women, secret credit cards.
His lad's a right fucking mess.
And every other excuse under the sun.
She's lost her husband, you're the bloke who did it,
and you're in her bed.
Get out and let the woman mourn, for fuck's sake!
Should I tell her?
It might ease your conscience.
But it'd kill her stone-dead, nothing surer.
Don't look at me! We can't be seen together.
How goes it?
Nightmare. Haven't a clue what I'm looking for.
Tell me about it, story of my life.
Think the gaffer suspects something. She's always got her eye on me.
Fucking spreadsheets and databases and "online this".
It's de-humanising. It's a whole new level of cattle market.
Still talking about the brothel?
Yes! Just look dumb and clueless.
I'll try.
I'm looking for Danny McKenzie.
I think he drinks in here.
We need more of a clue.
You're not CID, are you?
You talk funny.
What d'you want this fella for?
I think he's fucking my mum, and I'd like him to stop.
No Danny McKenzie I know of, in here, son.
Can I use your toilets?
Yeah, they're through there.
What a strange little boy.
Pardon?
What a strange...
I'm not open for another 45 minutes.
This way, I'll know what it's like to be an object.
Of ridicule.
Whatever.
You know, I think it's working. I'm starting to feel pretty horny.
Fuck off - really?
Yeah. But not for you,
with that fucking weird staring thing you're doing.
Thanks for your help. No of fence.
OK.
See you, love.
Oh...
He's still got some of that liquid soap on his hands.
There's no liquid soap in the gents.
Oh, the dirty little fucker!
Off out?
Won't be late.
Nice jacket.
Thanks.
There was a lad in the bar today, looking for a Danny McKenzie.
Troubled lad. Give Ruby something to remember him by.
You know we're here for you, don't you?
Always.
Come on, you bastard.
Hiya, Guv'nor, how's it hanging?
What are you doing?
Praying, then... having a shower...
It's a whole cleansing thing,
saying thank you to the Lord for my good fortune.
How would you assess me?
Decade on the game, historic Class A habit, a bad marriage behind you.
Contemplating batting for the other side.
I meant, Employee or Sole Trader... for tax.
We need the room.
I dry quick.
You're my hero.
If you could let the boy think he's earned it,
I'd be much obliged. Make some memories for him.
No problem.
What the fuck?!
No!
What's the biggest problem of living in the digital age?
There's no such thing as privacy.
Named in it one, Sparky
What the fuck have you done?!
Credit card details, post-codes, mobile numbers - online
and vulnerable - and recently emailed to spouses
and employers from this very computer.
Four days Business Admin, you said.
I'm a woman, I shop. What more do you need to know?!
We're protected.
I doubt that very much,
once Mrs Deputy Commissioner opens her emails.
Wouldn't you say so, Dep?
May I?
What's that for?
Because we're not animals. Use it to go and see the Wizard.
Ask him for a brain.
I don't understand.
That's my point.
What, so the rest of us are out of work?
You live to exploit another day - just not round here.
I won't go. I waited two years for this house.
Here y'are. Consider it compensation, love.
I'm sure the Dep can put a word in,
for another house in another borough.
Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a business to run.
'You have to end it, it's the kindest thing.'
Shut up.
'It's called closure, mate.
'She can't start mourning me until you're out the picture.'
She loved me.
I know.
Maybe she loves you.
Hello?
Smelt the smoke.
'You have to end this.'
Do you mind?
'It's the only way.'
Didn't expect to see you tonight.
Yeah, I just came round to drop this off.
Not really me to be honest. love. It's a bit fucking gay, isn't it?
Sean, could you give us a minute.
Is everything all right?
'Now's your chance.'
Everything's sweet.
What you doing?
Come on, don't be coy.
Stop it.
Oh, you're one of them are you? Give it, hold it back, give it.
Fuck off!
Don't fucking play games with me, love, because I've had better.
You fucking haven't!
I want you to go.
'Go on - finish it.'
You - you're damaged goods.
You need me.
I barely know you.
And that's how fucking desperate and weak you are.
Get out!
Be seeing you, then.
I certainly fucking hope not.
'Guilt seduces. Like a stolen glimpse of flesh,
'a sliver of thigh, the shadow of a breast.'
Biscuit?
'It takes strength to resist.
'But the pain remains.
'A reminder.
'I try not to do navel gazing.
'It hurts too much.'
You're full of shit.
Shut up! I'm concentrated.
What, like orange juice?!
Fucking yes, fucking did it!
Ha-ha, ha-ha! YES!