Original subtitles

I still dream about that night sometimes.

I still dream about them.

Because they were there.

We did everything together back then.

The four of us.

Separate

but inseparable.

I suppose it's a bit of a shock.

I mean, you get a message like that,

and it really makes you think about, well, life, I suppose.

The choices you've made, the things you've done. Or not done.

Now, don't get me wrong. Looking after Mummy's a privilege.

I'm lucky I can focus on it

without any other distractions for want of a better word.

And it's very rewarding in its own way. I mean, I know I won't regret it.

Nobody lies on their deathbed thinking,

"I wish I'd spent less time with me mother," do they?

Okay. There's probably exceptions.

Like if your mother was Rose West,

you'd probably want to keep a bit of distance there.

I'd say it'd be advisable if anything.

But my mother, well, she's great. She's nothing like Rose West.

She does have sort of similar glasses, but that's as far as it goes, really.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is

even though I feel no bitterness or resentment or anything,

you only get to do this once.

And this path that I sort of find myself on,

which is, as I say, not without its blessings,

is the reason why certain things aren't going to happen for me.

I should be allowed to acknowledge that.

We should be able to mourn the life we couldn't have without feeling guilty.

Right.

So is it just the wee flat white, then, or…

I wonder if the others know.

-Mummy! Mummy! -Shush, Ryan.

So that's a shellac manicure?

-Yeah. Can I book that with the makeup? -Stop it.

-Wee wedding, is it? -Jack's staring at me, Mummy.

Sorry, one second. Stop staring at him!

-But he's doing breathing! -Stop breathing!

-Hello? -Um, sorry. What were you saying?

'Cause it's a wedding, you might want a more natural daytime look.

-No, no, no, no. -Mummy!

I basically want you to erase my current features

and draw on new features.

Different features, better features. You get what I mean?

-I want, like, a totally different face. -Stop it!

I am sorry, love. I'm going to have to call you back.

-No worries. -Stop!

-Okay, cheers. Bye. Buh-bye. -Stop it!

-What the hell is going on back there?! -He was staring.

-I wasn't staring at him. -He wasn't even blinking!

-Shut up. -Ryan grabbed my tablet!

-It's not yours! -It is mine!

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Will you please just shut up!

Mammy?

What?

Your phone's ringing.

So, Saoirse, thank you so much for this.

We wanted to get you two together rather than--

Oh shit. Sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Marnie didn't want things to, you know, get lost in translation.

So the fact is--

-You hate the scripts. -No!

Oh, God, no. No, of course not. It's just a focus thing.

-A focus thing? -I love playing Emma.

You know, she's a huge part of my life.

Yeah, mine too.

But isn't it time that we push the boundaries of the show?

Isn't it time we did something truly groundbreaking?

Right. Like…

What if, this series,

there's no murder?

-No murder? -No murder?

No murder.

No murder.

-Ah… -Okay, I just, um…

I mean, just so we're on the same page here,

the show is called Murder Code.

-Mm-hmm. -It's a detective show.

Emma is a homicide detective.

-Well, that's not all she is. -It's the main bit.

What if we shine a light on the personal cost of Emma's career?

You know, what it's done to her family, her relationships, her sex life.

Her sex life?

I want to see Emma have an orgasm.

-Tea. -I'm gonna need a beer as well.

-Okay. -I mean, it's good, isn't it?

-Is it? -Yes, it is, Harry.

So she stops solving murders, and what? Just goes about riding people?

-It's feminist. -It's a journey of self-discovery.

It's mad. It's a detective show. That's why people watch it.

Saoirse, no one knows better than you

how entwined this show and this character have become.

They are one and the same.

So in order to move forward, you're going to have to listen. Okay?

Yeah.

Emma is the show.

I wouldn't even wanna write the show without Emma.

Oh, thank you. There we go.

So maybe I won't.

-What? -What?

-Maybe I won't write the show. -Oh, don't be so fucking childish.

Putting a gun to someone's head is only a threat

if you're sure they don't want you to pull the trigger.

Harry, that is no way for a client to behave.

Why are all actors completely insane?

Writers aren't exactly a doddle either, let me tell you.

Ah! Piss off, Robyn! I am so annoyed.

I can tell. You didn't even wait for food. That's unprecedented.

No. She's done me a favor. The show's run its course.

-The show's huge. -Why?

What even is it? It's just, "Look. Someone's got themselves murdered again."

Is that… is that what I do? Is that what I contribute to society?

You entertain a lot of people, Saoirse.

So do fuckin' clowns, Harry.

You know, when I started, it was theater.

I wanted to write plays. What happened?

You realized you'd need to buy stuff.

One second. My friend is…

…dead.

My friend is dead.

Dear Saoirse, Dara, and Robyn.

My name is Gaye Hearten,

and I'm afraid I have some terribly sad news.

My wonderful sister-in-law Greta passed away yesterday.

I know how close you once were.

She often spoke of you fondly.

If you wanted to come and pay your respects,

it would really mean the world to us.

She'll be waked from her home,

Elm Manor, Knockdara Village,

County Donegal.

Separate but inseparable, just like us.

We're all finding it so difficult.

You wanna just forget it happened.

We can't continue like this. We can't.

-Dara! That's you, Dara! -Coming!

Morning, Belfast…

Okay, so this is what she's supposed to take when.

You're sure you'll be okay?

I think I can babysit my own mother, Dara. Like, I'm not gonna kill her.

Sorry?

And even if I did, she's 96, so she's had a good innings.

-She's 72. -Potato, tomato.

-Potato, potahto. -What's a potahto?

I don't know. Jamie, this is important. Mammy's very fragile.

For feck's sake. Christ, is she not away yet?

-Just heading now, Mammy. -Well, on you go.

Out to buck. You've my head fried.

Okay, then. If there's anything you don't understand, just call me.

We'll be grand. Just go.

Enjoy yourself.

-Well, it's my friend's wake. -Happy days.

Oh, and if--

We're dying now? That's it, is it? That's the latest?

Apparently.

We should not be dying. We're 34 years of age, for Chrissake.

We're 38.

-Did you manage to find a hotel? -Indeed, I did.

It has a spa and everything.

I don't think I'm in the mood for a spa. Is it even appropriate, considering?

Ach. Well, Excuse me for trying to make this experience

a little less horrific, Dara.

-I didn't-- -Think I'm not devastated?

-I didn't say that. -Because I am, Dara.

I am devastated. I've been in bits since you called me.

I just…

Have you had your highlights done?

-Yeah. -When?

-Uh, dunno. Recently. -Like how recently?

-Wait to we see. -Since we heard about our dead friend.

Look, Dara. You can be in bits and have your highlights done.

-The two things aren't mutually exclusive. -Fine.

-Barely keeping it together here. -Okay. I'm sorry.

-Oh my God. Listen. -What?

That's her song. They're playing Greta's song.

-Jesus Christ. -Can't really…

Stop placin', time wastin'…

How freaky is that?

Do you think it's a sign?

Like she's telling us not to worry? Like that she's okay?

Yeah.

From the Lunner to Neptune

Came back with somethin' thicker Than fittin' in sasoons

Say like to think About cuttin' in restrooms

It's gettin' hot in here

-So hot -So take off all your clothes

I am gettin' too hot I wanna take my clothes off

-It's gettin' hot in here -So hot

So take off all your clothes…

-Any drinks or snacks? -No, thanks.

-Drinks or snacks? -No, thanks.

-Any drinks or snacks? -No, thanks.

Any drinks or snacks?

Can I tell you a secret?

Jesus Christ.

Any drinks or snacks, madam?

Can I get a white wine, please?

-Good gracious, ass bodacious -Ugh!

Flirtatcious, tryin' to show faces

Lookin' for the right time To shoot my steam

Lookin' for the right time To flash them keys…

Why's she late for everything?

She's probably collapsed from exhaustion.

-It's not that far. -We're in a different fucking time zone.

I'm sorry, but that airport car park was extortionate.

I'd have paid.

That's not the point. It's a matter of principle, Robyn.

Oh, here she is.

What in under Christ is she wearing?

I'm not sure.

-We're dying now? -Nightmare, isn't it?

-The whole thing's just awful. -She was so young.

I was talking about your outfit. Are they pajamas?

-They're trousers. -They look like pajamas.

Well, they're not. I can't believe she's dead.

I mean, I think a part of me always hoped we'd, you know, reconnect.

-Yeah. -Yeah.

Look, I know I was in two minds about this,

but I am so glad we're doing this now.

Like, paying our respects properly. It's only right.

And also, I could be doing with a bit of a break myself, to be honest.

-Robyn. -Look…

Things between me and Patrick have been quite difficult lately.

He's become very controlling, very possessive.

Lots of mind games, gaslighting. That sort of thing.

Is he not, like, one?

He's one and a half, Saoirse. And he knows what he's doing.

People always talk about

Hey, oh, hey, oh, hey, oh

All the things they're all about

Hey, oh, hey, oh, hey, oh

-Write it on a piece of paper -Paper

Got a feeling I'll see you later

There's something 'bout this…

Shit! I hate these big cars.

It's just weird. I think it's this one.

You'd think she would've told us what happened.

The sister-in-law, I mean.

Do you have to do that here?

Oh, I got Nutella on it.

Like, in the email, she didn't say if Greta was… ill or anything.

Uh, she'll not be thinking straight.

Cash only. Thank God I brought my euro purse.

They didn't have sympathy cards, so I had to just grab a blank one.

It has a watercolor effect.

It'll do the job. Here. Look. Careful, that'll burn the mouth off you.

It's all so mad.

What's so mad? Did you fill her up?

Don't do that. Don't call your car "her." You know it creeps me out.

Why contact us in the first place? It's been 20 years.

Twenty years, and we never once reached out to her. Not once.

Well, she moved away. We lost contact.

And that suited us, didn't it?

I put a deposit down on those dresses I told you about.

What? Oh, I'm not having bridesmaids.

-I don't want bridesmaids, Robyn. -You're having bridesmaids, Saoirse.

What kind of weirdo doesn't have bridesmaids?

I just want a simple, straightforward, low-key…

-Shite wedding? -Wait, is this not supposed to be my day?

-No. -No?

Look, let me get one thing clear, okay?

Myself and Dara here are gonna be walking down the aisle behind you

wearing matching frocks, with or without your consent.

What was that?

Dunno.

Did you fill the tank up? We're not low on diesel or anything?

Diesel.

I am so sorry, Robyn.

I thought you said petrol. I could have sworn you said petrol.

Why would I have said petrol when the thing runs on diesel?

-Easy mistake to make. -How would you know?

-You've never had a driving lesson. -I live in London, so--

-You don't live in London. -Please, no.

-I do live in London. -You work in Belfast.

-Your TV film is made in Belfast. -TV show.

You're in Belfast about eight months of the year.

-Six, seven at a pinch. -Why can't you admit you live in Belfast?

Because then I'd be somebody who lives in Belfast.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Christ. Where is this guy? It's getting late.

What if he doesn't come?

What if nobody comes? What if we die out here?

We're not gonna die out here.

I hope for your sake that we don't.

When they discover the bodies,

they're gonna have to record that you're wearing pajamas.

-And that's fucking mortifying. -They're not paja…

Oh, thank God.

About time.

Hey, hey, uh-oh!

Uh-oh!

I say, hey, boy

-Good evening, ladies. -No, not really.

What's happened here, then?

Right. Well, what happened here is Dara.

This is Dara.

She was supposed to put diesel in the wee hole thing,

but she accidentally put petrol in the hole thing,

and the car did not enjoy that.

No. Well, it wouldn't.

Christ, it's Jim. That's all I need.

Hello, love. Yeah, all good here.

-I'm gonna sit in the car. -Let's have a look, then.

Are you girls from Belfast?

-Been a long time since we were girls. -Oh, come on, now.

But we are from Belfast, yes.

Right.

-What? -It's not like you lot to waste petrol.

Oh, I see. A rioting joke. Very good.

Very retro-interesting, considering you're, what, 12?

-I'm 26. -Right.

Such a great accent.

-Uh, are you serious? -No one's ever said that before?

-No one's ever thought that before. -I love it. Sounds sort of dangerous.

That's a good thing?

It can be.

No. And look, there's a pile of stuff

at the foot of the stairs.

I haven't left it there for decoration purposes, you know?

It's not like a piece of modern art I'm working on.

It's a pile of everyone's shit that I want put away. Okay?

Bye. Bye, bye, bye. Love you.

Well?

You started the engine, so it's been contaminated.

-The entire fuel system needs changed. -How long will that take?

-Hard to say. -Oh God, I'm so sorry. I'll pay for it.

You're not paying for it, Dara.

-I am. -You're not.

-I am. -You're not. It's fine.

-It's not. -It is.

It's not.

Christ. It's fuckin' freezin'.

Uh…

-I take it you'll be needing a lift. -Yeah.

Yeah.

WELCOME TO KNOCKDARA

There's something sort of creepy about this place, isn't there?

Not when you live here.

Oh no. I didn't mean like bad creepy.

Ah. You meant the other creepy. Like the good creepy.

Atmospheric creepy. You know? Like sort of spooky, but not necessarily--

-Stop talking. -Yep.

You might know our friend. She lives in Knockdara.

I actually moved here quite recently.

Well, she lived in Knockdara, prior to her becoming dead,

which she now is, unfortunately.

Greta Heaney.

Not Greta O'Neill?

-Uh-huh. Yeah. -Heaney was her maiden name.

We're here for her wake.

Her husband Owen, he's me boss.

God, I am so sorry.

Jesus, it was terrible.

What happened.

What… did happen?

You don't know?

Oh God, aye. Fell down the stairs, the poor thing.

God rest her soul. There was drink taken, I do believe.

Perhaps she had a problem on that front. Who knows?

Many's a devil does.

Ach, it's no age to die.

No age to die at all.

Newspaper?

Um, their… their house, is it walking distance?

It's a couple of miles outside the village.

Turn right at the end of this road. Straight on till you reach the bookies.

Take a left, a right, a left that sort of feels like a right.

Directly opposite you, there's a field.

Look for a scarecrow with one arm, dressed a bit--

Could you maybe just call us a cab?

I can see how Pat's fixed.

But I'll make no promises.

For he's normally flat-out on a Friday night.

-Pat? -He'd be the taxi driver in Knockdara.

Taxi driver? Singular?

-That's right. -Fantastic.

Would you not head in the morning, girls?

Settle yourselves here. Have a bite to eat, a good night's sleep.

The car might be fixed.

-What do you think? -It makes sense.

-Great stuff. -I take it the spa's closed.

It is indeed. Since 2016, if I remember rightly.

-What? -Turned it into a soft play area.

A soft play area?

The mammies need somewhere to dump the kids while they're pampered.

Not if there's no spa, they don't.

Oh, sure. Isn't it only desperate? We didn't think it through at all.

C'mere to me.

If it's a bit of entertainment you're after…

We do a different theme every month.

The young ones come from Letterkenny and Donegal town by the busload.

Mad craic altogether.

Great.

Nothing like throwing a few shapes while reminiscing about your dead friend.

Good woman, yourself.

I'm not being unromantic. We're working together, baby.

They're breathing down my neck for the new drafts.

Seb, I think, considering what's happened…

-What do you mean? What's happened? -Did you not read my mess…

I, uh, didn't actually send it.

What's going on?

Oh, it's grand. My friend died.

Christ, who? Not Robyn?

-No. -Dara?

No. They're both here and very much alive.

A girl we went to school with.

We hadn't seen her in an age.

Thought we should pay our respects or whatever.

-I'm gonna be in Donegal for a few days. -Donegal? I could have come with you.

-You don't like dead bodies, Seb. -Who likes dead bodies?

Yeah, but the scripts, they're coming.

-And you spoke to Marnie? How was she? -She fell down the stairs.

Marnie did? Oh no.

What? No. I wish. My friend. That's how she died.

-Oh. Oh, that's awful. -Yeah.

-Even if you weren't close, that's rough. -Who said we weren't close?

We were very close. Once.

Hello?

Hello?

Can I tell you a secret?

Oh my God. I remember when this was taken.

It was sports day, wasn't it?

-Well? -We haven't even looked yet.

We'll let you know when we've decided.

I'll be right over there, on the edge of my seat.

No, wait. We should order drinks, at least.

Oh Christ.

I'm doing this "one year, no beer" thing. It's so boring.

You're not drinking? For a year?

I'm not drinking beer. I'll have wine or whatever.

-A bottle of this one. -Fine.

Aren't Donegal people supposed to be friendly? Is that not their thing?

Have you seen this?

Oh God.

-Maybe we could put it in the coffin. -That's a lovely idea.

-Is it? -To let her know we're thinking about her.

She's dead. I mean, let's be honest.

The Greta we knew died back then. All these girls did.

-What are you on about? -Those 20 years, they happened.

And they changed us.

Close enough.

Who would like to try?

That'll be grand.

But this Greta?

She became a whole different person. A person we know fuck all about.

Saoirse, are you all right?

Mm. Who falls down a flight of stairs to their death? Who does that?

-What do you mean? -It just seems so fucking avoidable.

-Well, there's no good way to die at 38. -I feel like there's bad ways, though.

And falling down the stairs might be in the top three.

-Well, it's not in my top three. -Right.

-Don't even think it's in my top ten. -Good to know.

What are you saying?

I just keep thinking about the paths we take

and the shifts in our direction of travel.

'Cause those shifts, they happen so subtly, gradually.

What percentage is that?

What if what happened hadn't happened and we hadn't fallen out?

If we were still friends, would that have influenced her life, her choice?

Would it have changed her direction of travel ever so slightly so she…

-Didn't die? -Yes.

No. That's not how it works.

Exactly.

We have no control over God's plans.

Well, I wouldn't go that far, Sister Mary Clarence.

Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference.

And maybe putting a photo

in her dead hands will make us feel better.

-It was just an idea. -I need a smoke.

Hey.

Ah. So you were a mechanic earlier, and now you're a cop?

When do you do the rest of the Village People?

It's the family business, the garage. My uncle owns it.

He doesn't keep well, so I help him out a bit.

-It's why I moved here, actually. -Suits you.

It's… It's all sorted.

Oh, thank… you. Thank you.

How was the wake?

We are gonna go first thing instead.

Right. I should probably head meself at some point.

When you said your boss was Greta's husband,

I take it that means he's a guard rather than a mechanic?

-You never met him? -No. Uh…

Greta and us, we were sort of, um…

-We were… estranged. -I see.

What's he like?

Owen, he seems well-liked. He's quiet, private.

Did you know Greta?

Yeah, I met her once.

You're not too bothered by the aul awkward silences, are you?

Is that one of your interrogation techniques?

Not much call for interrogation, and I don't think it's awkward.

-It is. -Really?

-Absolutely. -Shall I say something?

-Please. -Why aren't you wearing your ring?

Oh shit!

I am forever doing that.

The… I… I… I'm not really a big jewelry person.

It takes a bit of getting used to.

-I should go. -Yep.

"I'm not a jewelry person."

Baby, you're all that I want…

Hey.

I'm finding it hard to believe

We're in heaven

Mm-hmm?

-What's this? -The bill.

Wow.

-You're not letting us off the hook, then? -Your accent's not that sexy.

We're in heaven

I had that top.

And those jeans. And that bandana.

I still wear that hoodie. I have it with me.

We could be right back there.

I think about that party sometimes.

There was a party that night.

You remember those, uh, '70s nights at the Limelight?

-I try not to. -Oh, one time, me, her, and Greta…

-I don't know where you were. -Choir practice.

-Maybe. -I was always at practice.

We go to the '70s disco anyway, and I'm wearing these tight purple flares

with massive turnups.

-Remember this? -Yep.

-And David Ryan was there, who obviously… -Biggest ride in Belfast.

Not anymore. God bless him.

So, I'm on the dance floor, smoking a cigarette.

Inside. Good times.

And I see David looking over at me.

By this stage, I've had a couple of Bacardi Breezers, so I am feeling fly.

And I flick my cigarette away, all dramatic,

walk straight up to him and say, "All right, David?"

And he goes, "You're smoking." So I'm like, "Thanks very much."

And he goes, "No, you're smoking. Like, there's smoke coming off you."

And I looked down, and, sure enough, my leg was on fire.

What?

I'd flicked the cigarette into the turnup of my flares.

Jesus, Robyn.

…on her hands and knees, you know. Sort of at my leg, trying to put it out.

-Christ, but we were eejits. -Yeah.

Shit.

Where's that wee bitch? I'll just go over.

Excuse me.

I can't believe I've never heard that before.

She's definitely told it before. More than once.

I mean, it's not what happened.

I did the thing with the cigarette. I almost set fire to a pair of jeans.

Robyn was there. David Ryan wasn't.

And it wasn't a '70s disco. A different night. Different story.

She's, uh… she's got mixed up somewhere down the line.

-You haven't said anything? -Oh, it's funnier the way she tells it.

Isn't it fucking mad, the way we edit our memories like that?

I mean, we don't even know we're doing it,

but we're building these versions of events

that suit us, that don't challenge who we think we are.

Well, that's all a bit over my head.

-I don't think that's true. -Saoirse.

-It happened. -It's not the time.

It did happen.

And it's the real reason we're here.

When I got that email, my first thought was,

"After all these years, she's still talking about us."

And I was worried, Dara.

I was worried about what she might have said.

You are too. So's Robyn.

No, we haven't come to pay our respects.

We've come to make sure she didn't tell anyone.

So we can all keep pretending.

But it did happen.

Yo. Right.

This is the last.

We gotta go to a wake, first thing.

We cannot, under any circumstances, get hammered the night.

-Oh! -Ha ha ha!

Pump it

Ha ha ha!

-And pump it -Louder!

-Pump it -Louder!

-Pump it -Louder!

-Pump it -Louder!

Turn up the radio

Blast your stereo right

Ha ha ha

-Niggas gonna hate on us -Who?

-Niggas be envious -Who?

And I know why they hating on us

-'Cause that's so fabulous -What?

-I'mma be real on us -Who?

-Nobody got nothin' on us -No

Girls be all on us From London back down to the US

We rockin' this, contagious

Only time won’t take you anywhere

It just goes through you like a ghost

And only half of this is everything

Everything you are

And all you love the most

So even if I showed you everything

Every fear and every scar

Maybe try to outrun all of them

We're still out here on foot

So we won't get far

And I

-Fuck me. -My skin hurts.

This is bad. This is bad.

My eyes feel dry. I have dry eyes. Is that normal?

-I can't do this. -We have to.

It can't be good.

I mean, did I drive here? Because I can't remember.

Let's just focus, one thing at a time. One thing at a time.

The size of this place.

-How much do guards earn these days? -What?

The husband of the dead one. Of our dead friend. Of the dead friend.

-Uh, Greta? -He's a guard, yeah.

-Who told you that? -The man from the Village People.

Oh, Jesus Christ, I'm gonna be sick.

No, it's grand. It's grand. I'm grand. I'm fine.

Oh God.

Is anybody coming?

How would I know?

It's open.

Hello?

Wow, this place is really…

Creepy.

Hello?

Is anyone home?

Hello?

Excuse me?

What's going on? Where is everyone?

I don't know.

-What shall we do? -Well, don't look at me.

Shush.

-We could come back. -Pfft. I'm not coming back.

This place is freaking me the fuck out.

I'm very sorry to hear that, Robyn.

Jesus.

Mrs. Heaney?

Long time, girls.

Shh.

Well, you three haven't changed a bit, have they, ma'am?

-That's a good thing, is it? -Mm.

Change is essential.

That's very true, Mrs. Margo. Mrs. Ma'am. Mrs. Heaney.

Always getting your mother into trouble, this lot.

Yeah, and you were always grassing her up.

Sure, what are wee brothers for?

We're just so very, very sorry.

This is awful.

Thank you.

You were close, then? You and my wife?

When we were younger, yes. We lost touch when we left school.

I think Greta simply outgrew them.

Okey dokey.

I don't remember her ever… mentioning you.

Oh.

Well, it was just… Well, it was Gaye that reached out to us.

Gaye?

Your sister.

My sister reached out to you?

Mm-hmm. Yeah, she, um… she emailed us.

I see.

So, we thought we'd come and… pay our respects.

And say how incredibly sorry…

"Bon voyage."

What a lovely sentiment.

I didn't read it.

We had to have a closed casket.

I'm not sure if you heard what happened, but, um…

Uh, how did it happen? That's what I don't understand.

Well, she'd been sleepwalking.

At least, that seems the most likely explanation.

You remember how bad she was, I'm sure.

Anyway, I'll leave you to it.

-Are you both okay? -No.

-Obviously not. -Right.

I forgot how intense her mum was.

Her brother's not exactly a walk in the park either.

Why is there nobody else here?

You never get a crowd for a closed casket.

This is all very weird. This feels weird. Is it weird?

I mean, I can't tell what's weird and what's hangover.

I don't understand. We were fine when we woke up.

-We were still drunk. -We were still drunk.

Mm.

What do we do now?

-Should we say a wee prayer? -Wise up!

Can I get you a cup of tea?

Sure. I'll do it.

-Oh Jesus. -What?

-I am gonna throw up this time. -Don't do it in here.

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

It was wrong. What Daddy said.

Sorry?

She did talk about you.

At least to me, she did. She talked about you all the time.

The four of you, that friendship.

She said it was the best time of her life.

Oh, it's fine. I'm grand.

I'm grand.

Oh Christ.

Can I tell you a secret?

Mm. A secret?

My father doesn't have a sister.

What?

I don't have an Aunt Gaye.

Christ.

Shitballs.

Oh shit! Fuck.

Fuck!

Separate but inseparable, just like us.

Fuck.

Saoirse?

-What the hell are you doing? -Let's get you out of here.

-But, Granny… -Come on, now.

I'm so sorry. I was just trying to put a photograph in the…

Help me with this.

I just… I just prized it open just a little bit.

Just a… just a crack.

Just enough so I could…

A photograph?

We should leave.

No.

Wait. Wait!

-What's going on? -I don't know.

It was just a mistake.

It's fine.

You don't have to leave.

Ah, thanks, but it's a long drive, so…

And I… I have a cat.

You haven't even had your tea yet.

I made a lemon drizzle cake.

Well, we don't like lemon drizzle cake, so…

Stay.

Please.

We won't take no for an answer.

Uh, sorry.

Everybody

Move your feet and feel united…

It's open. It's open. Go, go, go!

Oh my God!

Move your feet and feel united…

Oh, Christ.

Fuck, Saoirse.

Just go! Just go! Just start the car!

Jesus Christ!

What have we done? What's going on?

Just drive! Go, go, go, go!

Oh, this is mental. You don't even have a cat.

That's true.

Well, you like lemon drizzle cake. I have seen you eating lemon drizzle cake.

Well, it's not my favorite.

If I had to pick a favorite, it would be red velvet.

Seriously? Red velvet? That's fucking disgusting.

Don't stop the beat

Can't stop, can't stop the beat

Fucking hell. Why is he following us?

-It's not her. -What?

-In the coffin. It's not Greta. -What do you mean, it's not?

What do you mean, "what do I mean"? It's not her!

-Then who is it? -I don't know.

-Where did you learn to drive like this? -School run.

The woman who sent us the email. She doesn't exist.

-What? -That's what the girl said.

Fucking hell!

I still dream about that night sometimes.

I still dream about them.

Because they were there.

We did everything together back then.

The four of us.

Separate

but inseparable.

Separate but inseparable.