Original subtitles

He was just so angry.

He called me a liar.

"You lying bitch."

"You lying whore."

I knew there was no talking him down. I knew we were beyond that.

But he grabbed me.

I tried to fight him off.

But it was useless. He had his hands on my throat.

Pressing harder and harder.

It felt like I was about to pass out. When I saw it.

I remember feeling it in my hand, and...

And I remember thinking I had one chance.

So I took it.

I've been looking for you.

- Go. - What?

Go!

Jesus Christ!

- Where's the car? - Over here.

Oh my God!

What the fuck is going on?!

Robyn, wait!

What the fuck is the craic with people who are supposed to be dead

not actually being dead?

- Would you drive?! - I'm gonna drive.

How? How? How?

Will you please stop saying "how"?

But how? Did we all, like, imagine it?

- It was him. - Couldn't be, could it?

Unless he was... Was it a ghost?

- Wise up, Dara. - Then how?

Shit.

Oh, it's me sister.

- Cancel it. - Dara.

- Why did you answer it? - I didn't mean to.

When is Mammy supposed to take this diabetes medicine?

- What? - Hang up.

The diabetes medicine. When is Mammy supposed to take it?

Mammy's not diabetic, Jamie.

- Who's the diabetes medicine for? - The cat.

Okay. Bye-bye, Jamie.

What the hell?

- This is all we need. - Well, there you are.

Can I help you, officer?

I'm afraid you're gonna have to turn back.

What? Why?

This storm's worse than they predicted. We're locking things down.

Come on, lads. I mean, it's just a bit of a breeze.

Oh no. It's a de facto storm, all right. Hurricane Olivia, they're calling it.

Hurricane "pain in the fecking hole," a bit more like it.

- A hurricane? - Are you serious, girls?

There's been nothing but red weather warnings on the news.

We were in custody. You lads might have mentioned it.

We had a lot of ground to cover, Ms. Shaw.

- You can stay at the hotel. - We've just come from the hotel.

Then you can go back there. We'll inform you when it's safe to travel.

- Can't we just drive to the next village? - No, you can't. Turn the vehicle around.

- What if we were really-- - On you go.

I used to have a dog called Olivia.

A real pain in the fecking hole.

Christ.

- Jumped-up little prick. - He's only doing his job.

- Why don't you just ride him, Saoirse? - What are we gonna do?

Well, looks like we're heading straight back into the horse's mouth.

- The lion's den. - What?

- That's not the right... Fuck it! - How do we face him?

What do you say to a man you helped murder?

We didn't help murder him.

Clearly not. He's nursing a pint in a Donegal snug.

What I mean is, that's not how it was. We...

We didn't do any actual murdering. It was just a bit of burying.

Yeah, well, what happened? Was he somehow still alive?

Did he just wake up and crawl out of his shallow grave?

Wasn't even that shallow. Sure, we were knackered digging it.

And then what? He hides out for 20 years? It's mental.

Twenty years.

- It's not him. - What?

How can it be?

Unless he hasn't aged in two decades.

- He must have had a son. - What the hell does he want?

I think we're about to find out.

- What is happening here, girls? - I'm not sure.

I've ordered a few cakes as well. What the hell, eh?

But if he knows what we did to his da, he's nowhere near pissed off enough.

- I am freaking out. I am freaking out. - Well, just don't, okay?

All the Dolly Partons are giving us evils.

Fuck them.

Here we are.

- Thank you so much... - Andrew.

Andrew? Sorry. You said that already didn't you? Sorry.

Black's fine for me.

- I'm trying not to have any dairy. - I really must apologize.

I can appreciate that a strange man lurking around the place you're staying,

asking questions about you might be a little unsettling.

I didn't mean to frighten anyone.

You didn't.

Oh, right. I guess it's just when you all ran out of here screaming.

Oh. That wasn't really about you.

We were all a bit on edge.

A bit delicate. We had a heavy night last night.

- Bad batch of heroin. - Not heroin.

- Prawns. - Poitín.

Desperate stuff. I actually thought I was Batman at one point.

I mean, I was half bat, half man. I had a bat's head, but a man's arms.

What was it you wanted to talk about, Andrew?

It's a bit delicate.

Um, and terrible timing, I'm sure. Um...

It's about Greta O'Neill.

- Greta? - Mm.

So, when I was a child... well, a baby really, um,

my father disappeared.

Disappeared?

Mm. And we never found out what happened to him.

I mean, over the years, there was theories and leads,

but ultimately, they all went nowhere.

Until a week ago, when I received the strangest phone call.

Thank you so much.

Uh, here, help yourself.

- From who? - No idea.

It was a woman's voice, but she didn't give her name.

She said that if I want to find out what happened to my father,

I should come here and speak to Greta O'Neill.

So I do, you know. I pack a bag, get on a flight,

only to arrive here in Knockdara and discover...

- That Greta's dead. - Yeah, exactly.

And died in an accident.

I mean, do many women of her age fall down the stairs to their death?

I suppose not.

My mind has been racing.

Approaching the family with this right now wouldn't be appropriate.

The woman's just passed away.

But the manager here said that you were her friends.

I just wondered if you might know something.

I'm... I'm really sorry, Andrew, but I'm not sure we can help.

Excuse me, sir. Just to say, you park your car out front at your own risk.

Ordinarily, there'd be no issue, but there's a twister heading for us.

So if it were to, heaven forbid, blow away or whatever...

- If my car were to blow away? - I can't be held accountable.

- It's a rental, so maybe I'm covered. - Your car's not gonna blow away, Andrew.

I'd give the insurance company a call just to be on the safe side.

Right, of course.

Look, let's continue this later. Um...

- Over dinner, perhaps? - I'm not sure we're still gonna be here.

You'll be going nowhere in a hurry tonight.

- Seriously? - It's to be a wild one, by all accounts.

Ah, well, dinner it is, then. 7:30?

No excuses.

Sorry. Um... Ooh.

Hello?

No excuses.

We're absolutely rammers on account of the twister.

Why does he keep calling it a twister?

I can't believe Jason Meadows had a son. Why didn't Greta tell us?

- Well, maybe she didn't know. - But as I say, it's a great wee space.

- He was someone's dad, girls. - He was a piece of shit, Dara.

It doesn't change that fact. I mean, don't get me wrong.

I feel sorry for Andrew. It's not his fault.

Though you might have to use your imagination.

I'd quite like to imagine I never saw this.

We'll give it a bit of a tidy up.

Whack a few cot beds in. It'll be great.

- Where's the bathroom? - Across the hall.

Across the hall? I am sorry, but that is barbaric.

We could stick a commode in if that's handier.

Oh, brilliant. Yeah, fantastic. We could stand around watching each other piss.

- It'll be like Glastonbury. - I've never been meself.

Is it not bad enough that I'm gonna miss my son's birthday?

- My only son. - He's not your only son.

Eldest. Eldest son.

Are you sure you've nothing a bit less, you know... shite, Seamus?

Every square inch of the place is accounted for.

There must be somewhere else for us to go. This can't be the only hotel.

Now you say it, if you go to the end of the street,

take the second left, you'll see the Christian Brothers Dry House.

They'll take in any poor critter.

Bring up the cot beds.

Great stuff.

This is a nightmare. What are we gonna do?

Get him to change those curtains, for a start. Jesus, the state of them.

I am not worried about the curtains. I am worried that the son of Jason Meadows

is downstairs and wants us to have dinner.

- Which obviously won't be happening. - I don't think we have any choice.

- No. - What?

Enough, okay? Enough.

I will not partake in this madness any longer.

I am done. I am drawing a line. This has all gone too far.

Look, I don't know what the fuck is going on here, and I don't care.

I don't care about bodies and coffins and weird messages and mystery offspring.

I am done. You do what you want. I'm staying out of it.

Staying out of it?

Robyn, you realize that whoever made that phone call,

whoever told Andrew to come here,

they know what happened that night. They must.

And if they know Greta was involved, they probably know we were.

Staying out of it isn't an option.

We need to start getting ahead of it.

Oh my God, she's right.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Sir, you don't have to be here. It's all under control.

Nonsense. We need all hands on deck for tonight.

What do we know?

The beachfront's gonna flood, apparently. We've been advised to evacuate.

Better get a move on, in that case.

- Kells. - Yeah?

Those women that you had in custody.

Greta's friends, right. It was nothing, really.

They went to the wrong service and ended up at someone else's funeral.

And then, well, there was a bit of a misunderstanding.

Right.

Ah, speaking of Greta's friends...

Yeah?

I was surprised Jodie wasn't at the funeral.

Jodie?

Because she was in town visiting, wasn't she? I met her in the hotel.

Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?

She told me that she was an old friend of Greta's.

- Said they grew up together. - You met her at the hotel?

The night of Maura's leaving do, which was the day before Greta--

I know when my wife died, Liam.

Sorry. Of course.

It's just, I was surprised she wasn't, you know,

at the service, what with her being in the village.

- Maura's leaving do, you say? - That's right.

- Ah. Heavy night, I believe. - Well, yeah, but...

So you might have been chatting to a woman named Jodie

or to the leg of a chair.

No, I'm sure she said--

I don't care what she said.

She didn't know my wife.

Yeah.

So for tonight's story, I'd like to take you back to 1837.

Rather fittingly, to the most terrible storm

Ireland had ever experienced.

It became known as Oíche na Gaoithe Móire,

roughly translated as "the night of the great wind."

It caused so much damage and death and destruction.

Fires broke out all over town.

It was terrifying and spectacular.

A natural disaster, we'd call it,

but many people at the time believed there was nothing natural about it.

Greta.

Greta.

- We're gonna go grab some lunch. - Okay. I'll join yous in a bit.

All right, love.

Bye, Mammy.

Please remember to sign the products out this time.

I always do.

You never do, Jodie.

And then it's more work for me.

I have to keep track of everything to make sure no one's stealing.

But why would anyone steal bleach?

I could drink it, I suppose.

What did you say?

Nothing.

Sign the products out, or I'll have to fire your ass.

Okay, I get it.

No need to be such a bitch.

I know what bitch means.

Sorry. Yes, you can take the glass.

It's fine. I've finished.

So it is you.

Blame it all on my roots...

Sure you might give us a wee song later.

Oh, it sure is himself.

- Are these honky-tonk fucks multiplying? - I can't see him.

The fear in his eyes

When I took his glass of champagne

I can.

Hmm.

You, said, "Honey, we may be through"

"But you'll never hear me complain"

'Cause I've got friends in low places

Where the whiskey drowns...

So, you and Greta, you went to school together?

Yeah. Uh, I mean, she joined a bit later. Uh...

Her family moved to Belfast from somewhere down south.

- Galway, I think. - A little village just outside.

- Tashbaan, I think it was called. - Yeah, that's it. Uh...

She must have been maybe 14 when we met.

But after school, we sort of lost touch. It was just one of those things.

University, life. People drift.

Hmm. You three haven't.

Mm.

- And your school, what was its name? - Our Lady of the Sorrows.

Yeah, sounds a bit intense.

But it was a convent school, and that's their vibe.

My father disappeared in 2003.

So if... if Greta did know him, she'd have still been a pupil there.

Mm. I suppose, yeah.

Dad could've well been in Belfast then. His work brought him everywhere.

His work?

Mm.

Sorry, thought I'd said. Um, so, my father was a journalist.

Um, an investigative journalist. Here.

"Charles Sampson."

Your father's name was Charles Sampson?

Mm-hmm.

He wrote some pretty incredible pieces, considering he was so young.

Bit of a prodigy.

Bloody fearless, if very secretive,

which hasn't exactly helped things from... from my point of view.

I just want to uncover the truth.

Saoirse.

Shh.

Er, sorry. I don't understand.

I mean that some of the things he was looking into, some of those people,

pretty terrifying stuff.

Mm. And so much time has gone past

that the officers who were originally looking into the case are dead or retired.

But I... I am not going to give up. I can't.

These are his notes. Well, the ones my mother saved.

They're basically encrypted. It's almost like he invented his own code.

His paranoia's completely understandable, but it does make it difficult

to know which story he was chasing when he went missing.

I think he references a cabin in the woods,

a fallen angel, the mournful woman.

And then something that appears over and over again is this. This symbol.

I know.

It looks pretty sinister, doesn't it?

Sort of satanic.

Almost cult-like.

She said he was an ex-boyfriend. Said he was violent, controlling.

She said his name was Jason Meadows.

No wonder nobody came looking for him. Jason Meadows didn't even exist!

- No, it doesn't make sense. - We never questioned anything she told us.

He was always just a figure in the distance.

- A figure in the distance. - My father disappeared.

We never found out what happened to him.

- I can't believe she'd lied. - Well, she did.

Because he was a fucking journalist.

- What was she mixed up in? - What are we mixed up in?

We helped bury a lad, and we didn't even bother to check his fucking ID.

And this? This thing that she convinced us to brand ourselves with?

I mean, what does it even mean? Are we in a cult?

No! I mean, I don't think so.

You'd know if you were in a cult, wouldn't you?

Surely you'd have to, like, fill in a form or something.

I felt guilty enough when I thought we'd murdered a creep.

- We didn't murder him! - We accessorized, though.

Can you or can you not go to prison for accessorizing?

Don't think that's the word.

I'll tell you the word I'm looking for. Fuck you, Saoirse.

- That's three words. - Please don't fight.

- This is your fault. - What?

I never liked her. We never liked her, did we?

Oh, grow up!

But you were all, "There's this new girl in my class. She's from the South."

- "Her accent's so cool." - You're not serious.

You forced her into the group because you thought she was exciting.

You thought she was different. You know what? And you were right.

She was different. She was a fucking psychopath.

She was going around killing journalists and founding cults.

We have no idea what the real story is here.

We know that she lied to us

about a man abusing her and assaulting her.

And putting that massive "fuck you to the sisterhood" aside,

I am pretty sure that whatever she was involved with back then

has come back to bite her in the arse,

and you've dragged us back into the middle of it.

- Oh, we all got that email. - And I said we should have left it alone.

Yes. Because you're always right, aren't you?

Nothing's ever your fault. You never make a mistake.

Well, except for those eyelash extensions.

Because when I told you they looked natural, guess what?

I was lying. They looked like fucking tarantulas!

Bitch.

Hear that lonesome whippoorwill

He sounds too blue to fly

That midnight train...

Ah, sure if it isn't the belle of Belfast city.

Oh, Seamus.

The very man. C'mere to me.

Is there anywhere around here I could have a smoke

without walking into the eye of the storm?

- Not inside the hotel. - Come on, given the circumstances.

No, I'm sorry.

It's a desperate habit, anyway. Bad for your health.

Really? They should start writing that on the box.

The moon just went behind the clouds...

A cousin of mine, fierce man for the fags,

puffing on 60 a day at one point.

Mind yourself there.

Then doesn't he, the cousin, doesn't he go and see this hypnotist in Burnfoot.

- Now, I know what you're thinking. - I doubt it.

I wouldn't be into any of that mumbo jumbo stuff myself.

You know, like crystals or manifesting or chiropody or any of that nonsense.

Chiropody?

Three sessions he had, that was it. Done.

Never so much as looked at a cigarette since.

Right.

Now, occasionally, he'll still bark like a dog,

but it's a small price to pay.

All righty.

Is there any way I could get a bottle of whiskey?

Did you ever see a robin weep

When leaves began to die

Like me he's lost the will to live

I'm so lonesome I could cry

Who were you?

Who did you become?

- Find me and find out. - I don't want to find you.

Not anymore.

- That's not true. - Isn't it?

You haven't been this excited

since you saw poor Charles Sampson all bled out at my feet.

No, that's not... You can't say that.

Finally, something had actually happened.

I made something happen.

You certainly weren't going to.

You were too afraid of everything.

Still are.

That's why you do what you do.

That's why you write your stupid little stories.

So you can live through the fictional people

you create in your own little head.

Oh, it's so fucking pathetic.

You are so

fucking

pathetic.

Maybe I am.

Hey! Who are you talking to?

Oh shit. Sorry. I was just trying to, erm...

I was just trying to work out this scene, and... You're all wet.

Yeah, we're evacuating people from the village. Bringing them here.

- Shit. - It's a precaution, really.

I mean, I hope it's a precaution.

Uh, Liam, we're just getting all that sorted for you now.

- Thanks, Lucy. - And if you need anything else.

- I mean, like anything at all. - I'll be sure to let you know.

Are you smoking?

- No. - I can see smoke.

Oh.

Who put that there?

You can't smoke in here. You shouldn't even be in here.

Ah. Erm...

- I'll deal with this. - Thanks, Liam.

- I'll just see you later. - Okay.

- Seriously, what's her problem? - She's all right.

Yeah, if you're an attractive man in a uniform.

Can I have a drag?

Didn't think the kids smoked these days.

Only when they're stressed.

Well, I find that... oddly reassuring.

Whiskey?

I'm good. I'm working.

Oh.

So you're gonna move people in...

in here?

Yeah. Just for tonight.

It's a big, uh, wedding reception venue, you know.

Really?

Yeah. You should ask Seamus. He might do you a deal for your big day.

Yeah, I think I'll leave all that up to Seb.

I'm not very organized, and... and he... he loves a project.

- Is that himself, is it? - Yeah.

- Seb? - Yeah.

- English, is he? - Yeah, but he's not a prick.

- Right. - He's a director.

He's good. He's great. He's very... He's... He's...

- What? - He's allergic to rabbits.

Right.

- And is that a problem? - No. I don't like rabbits.

Well, I don't dislike them. I don't have very strong rabbit opinions.

- But it... it bothers you? - Not really, no.

No. It's just... I mean, you know, how do you find something like that out?

Well, why don't you ask him?

Oh.

Oh, I feel like, you know, I... I've missed the window.

If someone tells you they're allergic to rabbits,

you ask about it there and then.

But I didn't, and... and now months have passed and...

Yeah, there's no going back.

I think you should probably just break off the engagement.

Very funny.

The neck of her! Slagging off my eyelashes.

She wanna do something with her own eyelashes.

Because they make her look like someone with shite eyelashes.

Robyn, come on. This is mad.

- Please. - I will not go back there.

I refuse to be in the same room as that spiteful bitch.

Jesus.

And this is your plan, is it?

You're gonna sleep in here? Are you? Next to the chest freezer?

I'd rather sleep inside the fucking chest freezer

than breathe the same air as that whore-bag.

Okay, I'm gonna stop you there, actually. I know you're upset, but I would prefer it

if you didn't refer to her as a whore-bag or a whore of any variety.

- It's not very girl power. - Ah, fuck girl power.

Too far!

Sorry.

Listen.

I'm sorry.

What about?

What I said about your job not being serious.

- Oh God, I wouldn't worry about that. - It's not what I think.

I used to watch Columbo with me grandfather.

It's why I became a guard, actually.

Really?

Back then, I just wanted to catch bad guys.

- You know, I thought it was that simple. - But it wasn't.

When I was doing me training in Dublin, I realized something pretty quickly.

The bad guys, they don't know they're bad guys.

In fact, they think we're the bad guys.

Some of us are.

Do you miss Dublin?

It was certainly a bit livelier.

Not much happens in Knockdara.

I don't know about that.

Do you think it was weird?

The way Greta died?

It's why you were asking those questions. You think there's more to it.

Do you think there's more to it?

No.

No.

It's probably nothing.

Go on.

So we're gonna rearrange the party, I think.

There's a storm. You're trapped. Jack will understand.

No, he won't. He's eight. He's a fucking drama queen.

He'll never let me live this down. It'll be like Mommy Dearest.

- What? - Andrew wasn't lying.

Charles Sampson was a high-risk assignment kind of guy.

Look at this.

It's a whole in-depth piece about paramilitary informers.

What the hell did he want with Greta?

It's one of the things I liked about her.

She listened to me in a way you and Saoirse didn't.

- We listened to you. - You still don't.

That is simply not true.

What do I do for a living?

- Sorry? - What is my job?

- Computers. - Computers.

- Things with computers. - What sort of things?

You compute.

Look, Dara. I don't even know what Jim does for a living.

Not really. And he's my current husband.

My point is, the fact that Greta was interested in me was flattering,

but she was like that with everyone.

She never talked about herself.

We never actually knew that much about her.

No.

Saoirse and Greta would've been closer, wouldn't they?

I suppose.

- Do you think... - What?

Do you think Greta might have told Saoirse things that she never told us?

There'd have been no point. We'd have found out anyway.

Saoirse couldn't keep anything from us.

- Do you think so? - Of course.

Yeah.

- Shit. - Fan-fucking-tastic.

And you met this woman here?

At the bar, yeah. She was staying here.

There was a couple of us out from the station.

Anyway, we got talking, and her accent was kind of hard to place.

She told me she traveled a lot.

She had two of these handwoven bracelets on her wrist.

They make them in a little Portuguese village.

- I remember because I complimented them. - Very smooth.

I'd had a couple of jars.

She said they're in a pair because they're friendship bracelets

and she was thinking of giving one to this pal she's visiting.

They haven't seen each other in a while, but they grew up in the same village.

- Greta? - Greta.

- This was a day before the accident. - Did you ask Owen about her?

Wait here, folks. I'll go get someone.

He didn't know what I was talking about.

- But you think he did? - I'm not sure.

But after you asked all those questions about the night of the accident,

well, I decided to check the records in the morgue.

And I found this.

So she must've known Greta. She must've given this to her.

How else could it have ended up in there?

- The body. - Shh.

In the coffin. It's not Greta.

Oh my God.

We never talked about it, but I thought about it all the time.

I thought about what happened that night all the time.

And the thing I held on to was that he was evil.

That's what I told myself. That he was an evil man. A bad man.

We were lied to. We didn't know.

We know now. We have to do the right thing here.

Yeah... Which is?

- We need to tell Andrew the truth. - Are you fucking insane?

Don't you think there's a reason God brought us together?

First, I'd need to believe in God.

We can tell him where his father's body is.

Because we helped cover up his murder. I don't think he's gonna let that bit go.

- I can't keep lying about it. - You don't have to lie.

You just have to, you know, not say anything.

Ah.

Thank God.

What? Where are you going?

This was bad enough when we did the wrong thing

for the right reasons. Now?

No! Dara, stop!

- Give me back my shoe. - No.

Fine.

They will put us in prison. Prison!

He deserves to know.

Don't you leave this room. I am serious.

Don't you test me.

Get you back here now.

Dara!

Mother of God!

Dara! Jesus, stop!

You cannot go up there. I swear to Jesus Christ. Dara! Dara!

God's sake, Dara.

Get off me!

How are you so strong?

Don't fuck about with a mam of boys.

Oh no. Please.

- Have you seen her since? - No.

She must have left.

I mean, God, it makes no sense.

If you were visiting an old friend, and she suddenly died,

wouldn't you hang around for the funeral?

What...

- What was her name? - Jodie. I didn't get her surname.

Did Greta ever mention a Jodie?

Erm, not that I can remember.

- What's wrong? - Nothing.

I... I just, erm...

This is all so...

Strange.

Yeah.

Yeah, it is.

Kells?

Sorry, sir. I... I got a bit distracted.

So it would seem.

Hello again.

Hi.

In you come!

I'll take it from here, sir.

Only if you're sure it isn't too much trouble.

Listen. I know you're probably still really pissed off,

but we really need to ta...

What is going on here, exactly?

I had to tie Dara up with my new GHDs.

- Which means they're probably ruined. - Why are you stripping?

I'm all hot and bothered. Do you think I could be perimenopausal?

- Could we roll back a wee bit? - She had an attack of the Catholics.

Wanted to march to Andrew's room and tell him the thing

that we should never ever tell him or anyone else about.

I don't give a shit about your conscience.

- How can you understand what she's saying? - Oh, your ear adjusts.

Oh shit.

Do you need any water? Fresh towels? Is there anythi...

All good here, thank you, Lucy.

So what is this, some sort of sex thing?

It is, yes.

- Do you Belfast ones have no shame? - It would appear not.

Dirty bitches.

- Untie her. - No way.

- Well, we can't keep her here. - I know that.

But I have loads of space at home. You'd have to help me get her in the car.

We're gonna untie her and talk about this in a calm and reasonable manner.

I'm gonna tell him everything. I don't care if I go to prison.

Okay. Pop that back in there.

What did I say? She's absolutely lost it.

Do you think the fact you took her hostage

might have in some way contributed to that?

Okay, shush.

I'm gonna take the sock out, but you have to promise not to be a mad bitch.

He just wants to know how his father died.

Keeping that from him, it's wrong.

We can't tell him. Can we, Dara?

We don't know, not really.

I mean, we arrived after the event.

Didn't we? And what Greta told us wasn't true.

That's right. That's good.

I mean, it's not good. None of this is. But it is definitely a point.

We're in no position to tell Andrew anything.

Not until we find out what really happened that night.

- And how do we do that? - I know who the woman in the coffin was.

I say we start there.

Lads.

The power's back on, sir.

I can see that, Peadar.

He's here.

I saw him at the hotel.

It was him.

We need to move quickly.

You haven't touched your food.

We were the rock 'n' roll kids

Rock 'n' roll was all we did

And listenin'...

So, um, before we settle up, um, a friend of ours stayed here recently.

She was the one who actually recommended the place in the first place.

She loved it. Absolutely raved about it, so she did.

Um, anyway, she asked us to have a word with you because, um...

Now, listen, she is mortified about this,

but she thinks that maybe she didn't pay her minibar bill.

- I doubt that. - Could you maybe check for us?

It's just we did promise we'd ask.

She stayed here last week. Around the ninth, I think she said.

- Jodie's the name. - And the surname?

Uh...

Jodie... Jones.

Jodie... Jones.

No, I have no Jodie Jones. I have a Jodie Pryor.

Ach, I'm always doing that.

Yeah. No, Jones... Jones was her maiden name.

Well, let's have a wee look here, then.

Mm-hmm.

All right.

I feel really shit about this.

Particularly because you've done so much for the arts.

Oh my God! I'm so sorry.

Jesus, Mary and St. Joseph. An Uachtaráin.

- It was an accident. - Oh! You've broken his nose.

You've broken the president's nose.

Maybe we could, like, glue it or something.

No home address, no contact number, nothing.

We got nothing.

Jessica Fletcher can rest easy.

It's not good. I didn't think it would actually break.

I mean, defacing a statue of the current president,

that has to be bad luck.

Yeah, I don't think our luck could get much worse.

It's definitely Jodie. She's definitely the body in the coffin.

She had dinner with someone while she was here. It's on her bill.

What did they have?

Sea bass and steak.

- See, I didn't think much of the steak. - Oh.

Hey.

You're leaving?

Yeah. They said the main road to Belfast's open now,

so I'm gonna take my chances. Hopefully there's a flight.

Sorry we weren't more help.

Oh no, don't be silly. I'm going to come back.

I still plan to talk to Greta's family. You know, when the time's right.

If all this has taught me anything, it's patience.

- Mm. - Really lovely meeting you.

You too, Andrew.

- Andrew! - Dara, please.

Yeah?

Good luck.

Thank you.

Ah, you're still here.

Oh God, Seamus.

Any luck?

We've him booked in with a sculptor in Monaghan.

He's very good, apparently. Specializes in nose jobs.

Well, I'm paying for it. No, really now, Seamus. I insist.

Grand. So, listen, this friend of yours, this Jodie.

- Yes? - Will you be seeing her anytime soon?

Will we be?

I clean forgot about it earlier, and it's only just come back to me now.

She left this in her room.

Now, we've no address for her.

Got wiped from the system somehow.

The aul millennium bug maybe caught up with us eventually.

- We'll make sure she gets it. - Great stuff.

The girls said they found it inside a pillowcase, of all places.

Sure is it any wonder she left it behind.

What is it?

- What does it say? - I'm not sure.

I think it's Portuguese.

Okay, so Greta Heaney was 16 in 2003,

still attending school in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Our Lady of the Sorrows college.

Mournful woman.

Our Lady of the Sorrows.

Take a seat.

You're right. It's the name of a holiday resort.

The bracelet she showed Liam.

She said she got it in a little village in Portugal.

A cabin in the woods.

Oh my God.

Wait.

Jodie Pryor.

What the hell?