Original subtitles

{n8}A novel by Emma...

Mm...

{n8}T. Wilde.

"DCI Penny...

Something

had seen some murder scenes in her time,

but never one as...

...as this."

"'Who moved the body?'

she said."

"Snapped."

"Demanded."

"Entreated."

"Screamed"?

"She said."

Nice cup of tea for the lady?

No, thanks.

Or eggy bread?

Can I do you some eggy bread, my wee midgie?

- No. Not for me. Thanks. - No?

Now, who is Emma T. Wilde?

- Why's she using a word processor? - Don't read over my shoulder, Ian.

So very sorry. Thought you might need a reader.

It doesn't deserve a reader. It's crap.

Uh, it's not crap. Nothing you do is crap.

Hmm?

- Why don't you go back to the play? - 'Cause that too is crap.

Oh shit!

Oh God.

I'm going out tonight.

- I'm gonna stink. - Hot, hot, hot!

- You cannot eat that. It's burned. - You say burned. I say crispy.

Let's call the whole thing off.

Really wish you wouldn't fry that when I'm about to go out.

- I've gotta wash my hair again now. - No, you don't.

Come here.

- That's my favorite smell. - Yeah. Bacon.

Sorry.

Mm. Whitehead-Morley residence.

Hello, Leeds.

We did lift up the carpet, yeah. No, there was no hardwood floor.

It was just damp chipboard and old newspapers, which was a shame.

Yeah. Yeah, but at least we are homeowners.

- It's ours. - Ian, have you seen my razor?

Things aren't that bad, are they?

Just on the phone to your mom and dad.

- Tell them I'll call back tomorrow. - It's fine. They called to speak to me.

She's good, yeah.

I do have a gig tonight. Yeah. Open mic, yeah.

Yeah. Mm-hmm.

Emma's... She's writing. Tap, tap, tap.

Oh yeah. It's all happening. Yeah.

Mm. Mm.

Yeah. Yeah.

{n8}Next week, llamas who can hum,

and baby monkeys who are being reunited with their mom.

{n8} Aww!

{n8}Cannot wait for that.

{n8}Hope to see you here at seven o'clock, BBC One, next week.

Good night.

Hey.

- No, thank you. - Sure.

Cheers.

Hey.

- Babe, did you see it? - No, sorry. I'm in town.

All right, Dex?

- How'd it go? - Yeah, it was great.

Nine million last week up against the football.

Hopefully, this week we'll get more.

What time are you back? There's a party later.

Dex, what are you like?

- Well, it's all part of the job. - Is it?

- Of course it is. - Thanks.

- Aren't you filming tomorrow? - Yeah. Yeah.

But not till four.

I'm knackered. I'm gonna have a night in.

Gotta go. Love you.

Excuse me.

- Are you television's Dexter Mayhew? - The very same.

Oh God, it's so nice to be out.

And it's been so long.

- Well, not that long. - Eh.

- You look lovely. - Ugh. No, I don't.

- Cool shoes. - Saxone.

- £12.99. - Mm.

One day, I'm gonna give you a compliment, and you won't reply with the price.

No. Never.

Come on.

Ah, of course you've succumbed.

- To what? - You've got a mobile.

All right, you've got a choice.

Either you can phone me.

Actually me, personally.

Or you can phone a building,

in which I might just happen to be in at the time.

The building.

- And what if I don't pick up? - God forbid you should miss a call.

- I give you six months before you cave. - Never.

- That sounds like a bet. - Okay, a bet.

If I ever get a mobile phone, you can buy me dinner.

What, again?

- Rude. - Come on. You're gonna like this place.

- Hiya. The usual? - Yeah.

PizzaExpress would've been fine.

Amazing, eh?

It looks like a cruise ship.

So nautical. Nautical but nice.

What time do we hit the iceberg?

- Ian joining us tonight? - What?

You sound like Ian.

"Nautical but nice."

Dexter!

What?

Love Ian.

- Top bloke, Ian. - Mm.

- You should hear what he says about you. - Come on. Let's get a drink.

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Get your rocks off Get your rocks off, honey... ♪

- What do you want, Em? - Oh. Just a G&T, please.

Oh God, no. You're not in the pub now. Have a proper drink.

- Yes, sir? - Two martinis. Bombay Sapphire.

- Very dry, with a twist. - Prego.

Trust me. Best martinis in London.

Look. Look.

The trick is to get everything really cold at the start.

Ice water in the glass.

Gin in the freezer.

And how do you know all this?

My mom taught me when I was, like, nine.

Oh.

Well, then.

To Alison.

- That was nice. What was that for? - I'm happy to see you.

Mm.

Oh God.

I've never had one of these before.

It's like getting punched in the face by a drink.

Instant drunkenness, which is exactly what I need.

Oh?

- Oh God. I don't even know where to start. - Don't start yet.

I'm just off to the loo. They're incredible here.

The best in London.

♪ Get your rocks off, honey ♪

♪ Shake it now, now ♪

♪ Get 'em off downtown... ♪

- Cigarettes? - Huh? Oh. Um...

- Would you like anything? - Oh. No, I'm sorry. I don't smoke.

Thanks.

Hello, you.

Cigarettes, sir?

- I'll have 20 reds, please. - Mm-hmm.

Thank you. Keep the change.

Cigarette girl. They're famous for it here.

Mm. Come on. Let's go to our table.

- ♪ Get your rocks off ♪ - Mm.

It's modern British.

I'm gonna have the oysters.

- They're natives, I think. - Ah. Are they friendly?

- What? - The natives. Are they friendly?

- Ian's back. - Dexter.

How is Mr. Ha Ha?

It's a genuine question.

Yeah. He's good.

He's, um, got a gig tonight.

And the flat's coming along. We're on the ladder and all that.

My parents are delighted. They love Ian.

I think my mom might actually be in love with him.

- How come I've never met your mom? - Why would you?

They've never visited me in London. Not once. Well, till now.

Now that I've got a boyfriend and my own home, it's like, "Ah."

"Now you make sense to us."

Mm.

My mom sends Ian packages. My dad rings him for a chat.

We're going on a four-day walking holiday in the Dales in September.

It's quite, um, intense. Bit of a runaway train.

- What can I get you? - Uh...

Twelve of the native oysters, please.

They're sweeter than rock oysters, and they're more delicate.

I'll have the onglet,

and one more dry martini. And...

Oh, um...

Uh, yeah. Just the cod and chips is fine, thanks.

You're very knowledgeable all of a sudden.

- Meaning? - You seem to know a lot about food.

I love food and wine. I eat out most days now.

As a matter of fact,

I've been asked if I want to review for one of the Sundays.

Wow. Really? You're reviewing restaurants?

Uh, cocktail bars.

They've given me a weekly column called "Barfly."

It's, uh, sort of a man-about-town kind of thing.

And you'd write it yourself?

Of course I'd write it myself.

Who else would write it?

Hmm. Red or white?

I think we should start with

a nice biscuity Muscadet,

and then a Margaux.

Uh, how's Callum?

Do you see much of him, or...

No. No, not really.

Uh, why force it? You know. We have nothing in common.

I think it's important not to be too sentimental about these things.

I just love the vibe in this place.

I mean, it's... it's... it's smart.

But a bit theatrical.

- It's fun. - Is she having fun, do you think?

I don't know, Em. Are the waiters?

The barman?

It's a job. It's the same.

It's not quite the same. She's the only one showing her ass.

Well, what can I say? Maybe her woolly black tights are in the wash.

Maybe she's enjoying it. Maybe she feels sexy in that outfit.

- That's feminism, isn't it? - First wave or second?

Can we just not tonight?

- I'd quite like to have a nice time. - Yeah. So would I.

Great.

Well, Tilly's good.

Yeah. She's lusting after this guy from Nottingham called Graham.

- Acid House Graham, we call him... - Back soon.

Same again, please.

More? Already?

What can I say? I'm like one of those beagles.

Just can't stop myself.

Thank you.

Just out of interest, what time do you finish today?

Do you two know each other?

Oh. No, no, no, no.

I just had to stock up. There's a party later.

Mm.

My mate, Oliver.

- I've told you about him. He's a baronet. - Oh, and?

What do you mean?

What's that got to do with anything? Why mention it?

Uh, to identify him.

I know about nine people called Oliver. Lemon?

No, thanks.

So where's the party?

Holland Park.

Massive great house.

Everyone from my show's gonna be there. Bands, actors.

- You're, um... You're welcome to come. - Mm. Sounds like it.

No, of course you are. It's just... You won't know anyone, that's all.

I'll know you.

Having fun?

Hi.

- And Suki. - Yeah.

Suki's doing really well, isn't she? Her new show is massive.

Yeah, we both are.

You know, I prefer doing the late-night stuff.

More edgy.

How's it going?

- Everyone wants a piece. It's mad. - I meant with the two of you.

Yeah, she's great.

She gets it.

Gets what?

Being on telly.

She... She... She understands.

Well, that's romantic.

So this party, it's... You know.

Uh...

- I'm just worried about you getting home. - It's okay, Dex. I get it.

No. No, I want you to come. Of course I do.

Let's play it by ear, yeah?

- Yeah, okay. - Just a sec.

♪ I'm so tired ♪

♪ Of playing ♪

♪ Playing with this bow and arrow ♪

♪ Gonna give my heart away ♪

♪ Leave it to the other girls to play ♪

♪ For I've been a temptress too long ♪

Love the show, Dex.

Thank you.

♪ Give me a reason to love you ♪

♪ Give me a reason... ♪

Got a tutorial?

- How's your steak? - Sensational.

Yeah. Really rare.

- How's the fish? - Cold.

It's opaque. That's how fish is supposed to be cooked. So it turns opaque.

Dexter, it's opaque because it's been deep-frozen.

It hasn't been fully defrosted.

Is it?

Are you...

I'm not paying for fucking Birds Eye fucking frozen fish. Hey!

Can you take this off the bill? It's not cooked. And we'll see the menu.

- I'm fine. - It's not fine.

- You need a main course. - I'm really not hungry.

Can you just get something? They're not gonna understand if you don't.

A green salad, please.

This is going well.

What?

What have I done? Hmm.

What have I done now?

Can we just... Can we just go back to what we were talking about before?

Ian, your mom.

Let's not.

Fine. Then tell me something new.

Uh, your writing. How's the play?

- It's a novel. - A novel?

Last time I saw you, you were writing a play.

Yeah, but it wasn't working, so I moved on.

Okay.

- Meaning? - It's just...

- Never mind. - No, come on. What?

What's the point starting things if you're never gonna finish them?

I mean, seriously, Em. Huh?

Have you finished anything since, what? The year after we left Edinburgh?

I've got this friend, okay? She's a screenwriter.

She's super successful. She says if you're talking about writing,

then you're not writing. Either you're writing or you're not.

- Do it or don't do it. - Wow.

Thanks, Dexter, for that valuable tip.

The thing is, maybe your friend doesn't also work full-time,

so she may not understand it's not quite as simple as that.

Is that the issue?

Come on, Em. That's not the issue.

- But you don't wanna hear it. - Hear what?

Look, it's your life.

Okay? But if you ever wanna get out of teaching...

- Why would I want to get out? - You're shouting.

- I'm a bloody good teacher. - Yep. No doubt.

You know what they say about teaching, right?

No, Dex.

I'm not familiar. What do they say?

Those who can, do.

Those who can't...

- Say, "Fuck yourself, Dexter!" - Jesus Christ!

Shit!

- No more martinis for you. - Get off me.

- Are you okay? - Yeah.

Emma! Emma, come on.

- Come on. Come on. - The night's over, Dexter. I'm going home.

Whatever it is I've done, I'm sorry. Whatever you are angry about...

- You don't know? - No, I don't know!

I don't know. So can you please just... just chill the fuck out?

We can go somewhere and calm down. We're both a bit pissed.

No, you're pissed.

You're always drunk or off your face on something every single time I see you.

Do you realize I haven't seen you sober for about three years?

I don't remember what you're like sober.

And running to the loo every ten minutes. I don't know if it's dysentery or coke,

but either way, it's fucking rude. And most of all, it's boring.

Even if you are there, it's in body only.

The whole time you're looking over my shoulder for a better option.

- Not true. - "This one's a baronet."

"This one's got a bloody great house." It's such bollocks, Dexter.

Okay, you're a TV presenter.

You've not invented penicillin, broken a deadlock on the security council.

It's TV, and it's crap TV at that. Well, sod it. I've had enough.

Look, can we go somewhere and talk about this?

- I don't wanna talk about it. - Stop. It's me!

It's me. Please, just come here.

Why are you being like this, Dexter?

- I'm just being myself. - No, you're not.

I know what you're like. This isn't you.

You're horrible like this, Dexter. You're obnoxious.

You always were a bit obnoxious, every now and then.

A bit full of yourself. But you were funny too,

and kind sometimes, and interested in people other than yourself.

- I'm just having fun. - I know.

I know you've been through a lot in the last few years with your mom.

I've tried to understand that. Really, I have, but

you're just not the person I used to know.

We're not friends anymore, Dex. We're just not.

- You're always canceling and postponing. - Or you are.

But tonight, there was stuff I needed to talk to you about.

About Ian and me.

But I can't talk to you anymore, and if I can't,

then what's the point of this?

Maybe it's just done.

- What's done? - Us.

The friendship.

You said it yourself. There's no point getting sentimental about it.

- Move on. One in, one out. - Oh, I wasn't talking about us.

I mean, we're Dex and Em. Aren't we?

No. You used to make me feel good about myself.

But now you make me feel like shit.

Like I'm not cool enough or interesting enough or ambitious enough.

- I don't think that. - Well, good. 'Cause it's bollocks.

I am cool and interesting and ambitious.

In fact, I'm fucking great, and you used to think so too.

If you don't, fine. I'm not up for being treated like an obligation.

Like a chore. Like you always want to be somewhere else with someone else.

Sometimes I just get a bit carried away, all right?

If you weren't so judgmental all the time.

- Am I? - Yeah.

Well, I...

I... I don't think I am. Well, I... I try not to be.

Yeah. Well, you are.

And patronizing.

And... censorious.

- Censorious? - You're doing it again!

What am I doing?

"Censorious?" Like, "How could he know that word?"

Because I'm so thick.

Such a lunk.

So beneath you.

"How could he ever possibly write his own column?"

"I'm Emma Morley. I got a first."

- What the fuck are you talking about? - So fucking what, Em?

'Cause here in the real world, I'm actually doing really well.

And all you ever do is mock it.

But, you know,

envy is the tax you pay on success and all that.

Wow.

Is that really what you think is going on here?

- Fuck this. - No. I...

Listen. I remember when we were 22, and you said,

"What do you wanna be when you're 40?" And I said, "Rich and famous,"

and you took the piss.

Fine.

But I did it.

I actually did what I said I was gonna do.

I may not be 40 yet, but I made it happen.

And you?

What?

You haven't, Em.

I don't know what you said you wanted from this world,

but I'm sure this wasn't it.

"This"?

Throwing your lot in with someone who adores you, who you don't love.

Am I wrong?

Bye, Dex.

Emma.

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore.

Emma!

Ah, shit.

Yes, he was telling the truth. But only part of it.

His master is indeed, as you rightly said, a monster.

- He's also a vampire. - Hmm. You're back early.

How was Terry Wogan?

Awful.

Why? What happened?

I don't wanna talk about it.

How was the gig?

Mm-hmm.

- Did you do the cats and dogs thing? - Yep.

Was there heckling?

- Yeah, a little bit. - Mm.

Maybe it's not your best material.

- A bit of booing, actually, tonight. - Booing?

Oh.

- That's just part of it, though, isn't it? - Mm.

Suppose so.

I suppose sometimes I just worry.

What?

That I might not be very funny.

Ian.

Oui?

You are a very, very funny man.

Thanks, Em.

♪ Mmm, there's a song playing ♪

♪ On the radio ♪

♪ Sky high in the airwaves ♪

♪ On the morning show ♪

♪ And there's a lifeline slippin' ♪

♪ As the record plays ♪

♪ As I open the blinds ♪

♪ In my mind, I'm believing ♪

♪ That you could stay ♪

♪ And oh, if you stay ♪

♪ Well, I'll chase The rain-blown fears away ♪

♪ We'll shine like the morning ♪

♪ And sin in the sun ♪

♪ Oh, if you stay ♪