Original subtitles

Girls, it's me again. Sorry, but this is driving me insane.

I've thought about nothing else these past two days.

Who was she? Who was Jodie Pryor?

How did she end up in that coffin?

We have to find out.

We know she was friends with Greta.

At least, that's what Liam told me in the hotel.

In the ballroom.

Hey!

Who are you talking to?

You're all wet.

Yeah. We're evacuating people from the village.

We need to find someplace to put 'em.

Shit.

It's a precaution, really.

I mean, I hope it's a precaution.

Can I have a drag?

I didn't think the kids smoked these days.

Only when they're nervous.

There's nothing to be nervous about.

Is there?

Is there, Liam?

Is someone smoking in here?

I can see smoke.

No, sorry. This isn't working.

Cut it there! Reset!

Saoirse, sorry, but she says she can see smoke.

I mean, would she see it? I'm just not sure she would say that.

No, no, she does say it. Look. See? It's written here.

You're not listening to me.

Seb!

- Can I see you in my trailer? - 100%.

The bloody script was written yesterday. What do you expect?

I'll deal with her.

She's not great on night shoots. She needs to sleep.

- She needs put to sleep. - Um...

So, erm, the wedding venue rang again, by the way.

We have to decide on the menu.

There's either daube of beef or chicken à la king.

What the fuck is a daube?

Saoirse, which one of these do you like? Marnie can't decide.

- It's slow cooked. - I don't care. That one.

- It's meant to be quite moist. - Please don't say "moist"!

Sorry, a very quick one.

Paul's saying, "Only when they're nervous,"

but it's "Only when we're nervous." Which one do we prefer?

I don't know. Shall we go with the script?

I'm just obviously worried it might be a bit chewy.

Saoirse, can I make Marnie's hair wetter? She's coming in from the rain.

I know. I wrote it. It's a storm.

- I mean, how heavy is it? - Well, it's a storm.

Maybe the chicken would be safer, but then do we want it à la king?

- Marnie says she'll get pneumonia. - It's a fucking storm!

Let's take five, everybody. Five minutes, please!

Then there's the vegetarians. They need numbers.

Jesus Christ.

- I'll go and talk to Marnie. - Mm.

- Oh, there's a policeman over there. - It's a cop show, Seb.

No, a real one. One of the Irish ones.

He said you asked him to come down. Research, I take it.

Yeah, research.

That scene you were filming, was that supposed to be us?

What? No, no. I mean, no.

I... take bits and pieces from real life.

Bits and pieces? It was word for word.

It's not a big deal.

They're not even important characters. I think that's literally their only scene.

Setting up for "Saoirse and Liam have sex."

Scene 43, "Saoirse and Liam have sex."

One of their only.

Can we have the intimacy coordinator on set?

The intimacy coordinator on set.

So, erm,

what is it you want, Saoirse?

Why did you ask me here?

Right, yes.

Erm, so the woman you were talking to at the hotel,

the woman that claimed to know Greta?

Jodie Pryor.

- You found out her surname. - So did you.

So, er, I was talking to Seamus.

He said last time he spoke to Jodie Pryor,

she was asking for directions to her friend's house.

- To Greta and Owen's? - To Greta and Owen's.

Of course, Owen denies Jodie ever existed.

Why?

- Why is he lying? - An affair, maybe.

What?

- Oh. Owen and Jodie? - It's just a theory.

Anyway, now we'll never know.

- What do you mean? - We can't interrogate Owen.

And Jodie's booked herself a flight to Portugal.

- What? - I've been trying to track her down.

I wasn't having much luck, so I checked the airline logs, and there she was.

Checked in online last night.

Last night. But she...

- She can't have. - But she was.

Calmas Águas Azuis, Sagres. Good evening.

Oh, hi. Hello.

I am trying to get in touch with a friend of mine,

and she works at your hotel.

Jodie Pryor?

Jodie Pryor? Do you know which department she works in?

- Is it about Jodie Pryor? - Yes.

Swap with me.

- Hello? - Oh, hi. Hello.

This is Mrs. Pryor, yes?

It is Gabriela. We spoke earlier about your daughter.

- That's right. - I have the dates you asked about.

You do?

On the seventh, she take five days leave.

She told my colleagues she would go to Ireland.

She was supposed to come back this week, but no.

I see.

I'm very sorry, Mrs. Pryor.

- You still plan to come here, yes? - I plan to...

Yes, I plan to.

If there's anything we can assist with.

Well, I'll let you know, okay?

But thank you for your help. Okay, bye.

Bye, bye, bye. Love you. Bye.

"Love you." Christ.

Oh my God.

Who's Jesse? Who is Jesse, and why is she messaging you?

- Robyn! - Don't try and buy time.

- I want an answer now. - Jesse Benson from the office.

Oh, so she works with you? Does she have a nice arse?

- I bet her arse is better than mine. - Jesse's me boss.

I want you packed and gone by first light.

- What are you, John Wayne? - I am serious.

Jesse Benson is a man.

- What? - He's a man. In his early sixties.

You've met him at the Christmas party. He's tall and bald.

He's married to Deirdre.

Oh my God.

- A man? - Yes.

Uh, I don't know what to say.

In circumstances like this, it's often traditional to apologize.

I can't even look at you.

Okay.

- Did you know when you married me? - Did I know what?

That you were, you know, into the boys.

I'm not into the boys.

- So you're denying it? - Yes.

- All right. Why don't you tell him? - What?

- That you're not into it? - Because he's not into it.

Jesus, Robyn. Jesse Benson is my boss. We've been working together for 20 years.

He's not gay. I'm not gay. He sometimes sends me messages about work.

- Why, though? - Because we work together.

I read the message, Jim.

He said you need to tell your wife. He said he won't wait forever.

He's got this promotion for me, but there's a lot of travel.

- Ha! No chance. - This is why I didn't bring it up.

- You have to admit, this is a bit weird. - No, Robyn.

What's weird is you creeping into our room at three in the morning,

dressed like the fucking Milk Tray woman. Now, I'm going to sleep.

Try not to attack me before half seven.

Milk Tray woman isn't even a thing, but whatever.

I can't believe this is happening.

I'm still not sure about the frock.

I just cannot believe it. I mean, I can't get my head around it.

Would you give over, Dara. I'm not sure about the frock either, love.

- Is it a bit tight? - It is, aye.

- This isn't normal. - It's not as unusual as you think.

People get the news, they want to plan.

Have the doctors given any indication, you know, time-wise?

What doctor? She's not ill!

Except for not being all there in a mental sense.

When I do go, you'll be glad I had a plan in place.

If I don't get this right, I'll be the talk of the town.

- You'll be dead, Mammy! - You can always unzip it.

The dress.

Nobody's going to see the back.

- And who's this one? - It's Angela. She's doing the flowers.

Can we have a quick word, please?

Her friend passed recently. I suggested to Mammy we speak to you.

For peace of mind, like. I didn't know she'd demand a full-blown dress rehearsal.

Do you mind me asking why you chose us?

We've never booked a job in Belfast.

I was at a wake in Donegal the other day.

In Knockdara village.

- Milk? - Ah, yes, please.

- You did a beautiful job. - Thank you.

- Sugar? - Seven, please.

So you wanted us for your wee mammy?

Aye. Do you remember the wake?

Greta O'Neill?

The O'Neill girl.

That was a strange aul job.

How so?

Are you friends with the husband too?

No, not at all.

Very high up in the guards, I believe.

Desperate.

A young woman falling down the stairs like that.

And then there were the burn marks.

Burn marks?

All over her back. Hmm.

Scars, you know. Was it a happy marriage, do you know?

- Do you think she was hurt deliberately? - Ach, now, that's not for me to say.

Between you and me.

The husband.

High up in the guards, I believe.

Dara, Robyn and Saoirse are here.

How lovely. They've come to pay their respects.

Seriously?

- You really think it's Greta? - It has to be Greta. Jodie's dead.

And she's gone to Portugal? On a plane?

Yes, on a plane, Dara. What do you think she did, set off on foot?

Right, so come on. What did you guys find out?

Jim's having an affair.

- Who'd have an affair with Jim? - A 60-year-old bald fella, apparently.

For God's sake, Robyn, come off it. Jim's not gay. He's too dull.

- He is dull, isn't he? - Did you ring the resort or not?

Yes, I did. Jesus, keep your knickers on.

Right, the girl in reception said Jodie was due back this week,

but nobody's heard from her. Her mam's looking for her.

- She's definitely missing. - Oh my God. Well done.

Turns out I'm pretty good at this shit. Jim doesn't stand a fucking chance.

The undertaker told me the body had burn marks on it.

Really?

He didn't think it was an accident either.

I could tell.

What did they do to that poor girl?

And why?

What now?

- Do you still have that room key? - Uh-huh.

- You think Greta's gonna go to the resort? - I do.

- Which means we have to follow her. - Does it really, though?

Don't you wanna know what really happened that night, Dara?

Listen, if we're doing this, we have to do it properly.

We have to be strategic and ruthless.

We have to hunt her down like a dog.

I feel sorry for your children.

I don't know, girls. I can't just drop everything.

I'm gonna make Mammy's last meal as a wee rehearsal.

Do yous want some oven chips?

Okay, let's do it.

I have the most wonderful news.

We're being given an opportunity here. A gift.

The number you have dialed has been changed to 0209

173477.

It's time.

We need to get Jodie out of the country.

Knockdara can't be her final destination.

Do you really think you'll find it?

Of course.

It has to be there.

Why are we stopping?

What's going on?

When the Lord sent his angels to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah,

the angels commanded Lot to take his family out of the city.

Come on.

The angels told Lot to take his wife and his daughters

and flee into the mountains.

They would be saved.

But the angels had one warning for them.

As they ran, whatever happened,

under no circumstances

should they look back.

But Lot's wife couldn't resist.

She looked back to see the city burning.

She was turned into a pillar of salt.

No!

All good?

Keys.

- Do you wanna tell me what happened? - With what?

- You were late. - I was just behind you.

You were supposed to be here first.

I'm sorry.

Don't let it happen again.

I was only five seconds behind you.

Two, three, four

Whoo-hoo

Whoo-hoo

Well, my heart knows me Better than I know myself

So I'm gonna let it do all the talking

Whoo-hoo

Whoo-hoo

I came across a place In the middle of nowhere

With a big black horse And a cherry tree

Whoo-hoo

Whoo-hoo

I felt a little fear upon my back

I said don't look back Just keep on walking

Whoo-hoo

Whoo-hoo

Well, the big black horse said "Look this way"

He said "Hey lady, will you marry me?"

Whoo-hoo

Whoo-hoo...

Oh f...

"No, no..."

I said, "No, no"

"You're not the one for me"

"No, no"

"No, no, no, no"

I said, "No, no"

"You're not the one for me"

Whoo-hoo

And my heart had a problem

Friday night, it's party time Feeling ready, looking fine

Viene Diego rumbeando

With the magic in his eyes Checking every girl in sight...

You know there's a limit on liquids, Robyn.

That airport security guy was only doing his job.

I just think you could've been a bit, you know, nicer.

- I was wrongly convicted, Dara. - No one was convicted.

It was a gross miscarriage of justice.

All right, Gerry Conlon, give it a rest.

We're here now, and it's lovely.

Okay, what's the plan? Where do we start?

- Jesus, Robyn, give us a minute. - No, Dara.

I would quite like to actually get to the bottom of this thing.

Oh, and maybe squeeze in a wee facial.

Let's think about Greta's motives for a second.

Or maybe a massage.

I wouldn't mind having a go on one of those banana boats.

- Have you seen those? They look class. - Girls!

What is this place?

Home. For the next while, anyway.

Don't go outside.

Don't even look outside.

Wait. You're leaving me?

Just stay inside.

Why would Greta come?

To hide out.

I say we focus on Jodie.

The more we find out about who Jodie was, the closer we get to where Greta is.

- That's good. - I know.

Ooh, they do a chemical peel.

I bring your bags, please, ladies.

Ooh.

Wait.

Obrigada.

Shit, wait. Erm.

- Excuse me. - Madam, please.

No more tip. It is enough.

No, please. I need your help. Erm...

- Jodie Pryor, do you know her? - You are her mother?

No, I am not her mother. Are you fucking mad?

Oh. We are expecting her mother.

Because it has been many days since she has been here.

- Her room is here in the hotel? - Uh, no, no.

Jodie is in the staff quarter. Sunshine.

Sunshine?

Sunshine.

The moment of truth.

I guess this is it.

Yep, doesn't fit.

Well, that's our first line of inquiry fucked.

Wait.

Always worth a try.

What the hell happened here?

What are you doing?

Gathering evidence.

Or something.

"The Doll Complex."

Jesus Christ, girls.

Look.

"Heaven's Veil."

Ah, I'm here now.

What's going on?

Jodie. Jodie!

Can I help you?

Sorry. We were just trying to... We were looking for...

Wait, I know you.

You hit my car back in Ireland.

My God, that... Yeah, that's... that's right.

Um, uh, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch about that yet.

Yeah, my, uh... husband's been having an affair with his boss.

Jesus, Robyn.

- Sorry. Do you know my daughter? - You're Jodie's mum?

You haven't seen her, have you? We had this massive row on the plane.

She stormed off.

And we'd had such a lovely time when she was back home.

I shouldn't have come.

Hold on. So you and Jodie flew here together?

That's right.

I shouldn't criticize, but it's hard.

I mean, Christ, the state of the place. How can she live like this?

Sorry, how did you say you know her?

We're friends of a friend.

Ah, right.

Greta O'Neill.

I can't say I've heard of her. Then again, my daughter has a lot of friends.

Or rather, people who encourage her drinking habits.

Well, Greta...

She passed away.

Oh, I'm very sorry.

Yeah, could we, um, speak to Jodie? Would that be possible?

It's just there's some things we think she might be able to help us with.

Well, when...

If she shows up, I'll pass that on.

Okay. We're staying in the hotel. If she just asks for Robyn Winters.

Very good.

Let's go.

- Thank you. - Erm...

Have you any idea what this means?

"Heaven's Veil"?

I don't, no.

You'll have to ask my daughter.

Fuck's sake, Saoirse.

I... I don't understand what this means.

I think this means that your theory is a load of balls,

and that Jodie is very much alive and kicking.

What about the symbol?

The symbol on the wall? Heaven's Veil?

- I knew we were in a cult. - We're not in a cult.

- It sounds culty to me, Saoirse. - We just need to figure out--

Stop it. Just stop. Shut up!

- Where are you going? - My brain is melting.

Like, I can actually feel it dissolving inside my skull.

I need to not talk about this mad shit for five fucking seconds, okay?

Good day.

"Good day"?

- Wanna hit the bar? - The bar? No chance.

It's 35 euro for a margarita.

- It's a five-star resort, Dara. - That's mental.

You could buy two bottles of tequila and make 30 yourself.

- Who would do that, though? - I would, that's who.

Dara...

Dara!

Honest to Christ!

Robyn Winters for the Lusitanian pummel.

Yes. Welcome, madam.

- Here is your robe and slippers. - Thank you.

Can I ask? The pummel.

It is a firm massage?

Just, I can't be dealing with the ticklish ones.

Ah. Griselda will be looking after you.

Fantastic.

Here is your locker key.

Locker key.

It's a locker key.

Yes.

I wanna know

My lovely

I wanna know

Where do you go?

Oh, oh, eh, oh

I wanna know

Oh, oh, eh, oh

- Where do you go? - Oh, oh, oh, eh

Oh, oh, oh, oh, eh...

I am the great Alfonso.

Master of mystery.

Welcome, boys and girls,

to the most magnificent show in Sagres.

For fuck's sake. Every time.

No panic there. Nobody's in a hurry.

Third week in a row he's caused a holdup like this.

Public disorder is what it is.

Are you sure it's the same fella?

Of course it's the same fella. Look at the big, arrogant head on him.

Just shift him, lads.

Saoirse?

I was thinking what you said about Jodie and Owen potentially having a thing.

Where are you?

On set.

That's just like a suspicion, right?

Nothing to back it up.

If I want to prove it, I'd have to go round the edges.

- What do you mean? - I've been thinking about Greta's mother.

If he was having an affair, I think the mother-in-law'd have something to say.

Oh my God.

That is really devious.

And I... I mean that as a compliment.

Liam, this big fecker won't budge.

- Listen, erm, I have to go. - Keep me posted.

Will do. Bye.

For God's sakes, lads.

What's your name, young man?

- Teddy. - Oh, Teddy.

Just like a teddy bear.

Right, that's enough. It's short for Edward, you silly man.

And now, for my first trick.

Three boxes.

Small, but completely impregnable.

Teddy bear, indeed. He's not even a proper magician, darling.

Let's buy you an ice cream.

I want that.

I don't think so, darling. Cheap tat.

Mrs. Heaney. I hope I'm not disturbing you.

Owen's out, I'm afraid.

Not sure where.

I'm just tying up some loose ends of a local thing.

A missing person. Perhaps you can help?

They told me they're looking for Jodie.

And we both know they're not gonna find her.

Don't we, Inspector O'Neill?

What else haven't you told me?

They, uh... they came to the wake.

I see.

Well, I don't know what they're playing at,

but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.

Well, I'll be the judge of that.

One thing's for sure.

This is hugely inconvenient.

I have enough to be doing.

And I still haven't found...

the box.

"Dear Jodie."

"I am truly sorry for how things turned out,

but it's over now."

"I never want my family to find out about us."

"Don't look for me again. Don't contact me again."

"I want to move on. Please let me."

"This might explain things better. Greta."

What the actual hell?

Were they lesbian lovers, Dara?

- Well, how would I know? - 'Cause you're a lesbian.

Yeah, but I don't, like, keep a database.

- Jodie told Liam they grew up together. - Let's open this thing.

It's locked.

Can we just try all the different combinations?

That'll take no time at all. You make a wee start there.

So what are we gonna do now?

Christ!

If it wasn't Jodie's body in the coffin, I have just got this, like, so wrong.

We're aware.

I'm so sorry, girls.

Yeah, this is the part where you're supposed to say it's okay.

- You're grand. - It's fine.

You're in luck.

Mrs. Pryor.

- She's back. - She is?

We've hired a boat.

Well, I have. Bloody expensive peace offering.

But we'd love if you all came for dinner.

Oh. Yeah. That'll be... That'll be great.

Would you look at that?

I used to have a wee jewelry box like this once.

Oh, the aul combination lock and everything.

Is that right?

- Well, we should get going. - What, now?

Yeah, why not? Jodie's there already.

We can have a few drinks before we eat. Come on.

- Here. Let me give you a hand. - No, it's grand.

Follow me.

This way.

You'll have to excuse the mess. I'm...

Well, the truth is,

I'm trying to keep myself occupied.

- Uh, please. - Thank you.

- You have a lot of books. - I do.

I'm a...

...I was a psychiatrist.

A life helping others navigate their own darkness.

And look at me now.

All at sea.

I'm so sorry about your daughter.

Mm.

How funny.

That's the one I've been looking for.

The Doll Complex?

How we hold trauma.

How it defines us, shapes us.

And how we can change the narrative.

- Is that where you got the name? - The name?

The author, Greta Ganchaille.

It is, yes. I was reading it when Greta was born.

She only ever wrote one book, you know.

Mrs. Heaney.

A missing person, you say? In Knockdara.

Yes. Well, she wasn't from Knockdara, but she was last seen here.

Her name's Jodie Pryor.

I don't know her.

No.

I didn't think you would.

But she was staying in the hotel here. And she asked the landlord, Seamus--

Now, Seamus, I do know, God help me.

She asked Seamus how to find this house.

She was looking for Greta.

It was the day before the accident.

Well, Seamus isn't the most reliable of sources.

- So she wasn't a friend of Greta's? - Not that I know of.

How long has she been missing?

Oh, yes, you said. Uh, before the funeral.

That's right.

- And she was traveling? - Yeah.

Did I tell you that?

You said she wasn't from here.

Of course. So I did.

What's all this?

Come on, Saoirse. Get a move on.

Yes, I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming. Jesus.

Here we are.

This is the boat?

Of course not. That's the boat.

- I'm not sure about this. - No.

We are about to meet a person who might be able to tell us some facts.

- Stop trying to fanny out. - I'm not trying.

Why would I try and... fanny out?

- Let me take your things. - Ooh, thank you.

- Where's Jodie? - Oh. I'll just let her know you're here.

Won't be long.

Help yourselves.

Her daughter works as a cleaner.

But she's hiring luxury yachts.

I need a drink.

Are we moving?

Seamus was trying to track her down.

I think there was a problem at the hotel with her credit card or something.

Not a reason to disturb a grieving mother in the middle of the night.

Sorry. I wasn't thinking.

Liam, I know you must be bored.

A young lad like you in a place like this, well, he has to keep himself entertained.

But let's not forget what brought you to Knockdara in the first place.

I came here to look after my uncle.

If you say so.

Good night, Garda.

Try to stay out of trouble.

- What does he know? - Nothing.

- How can you be sure? - I can tell.

You can tell, can you?

Oh, what with all your training,

your knowledge of human nature, you can tell?

Don't spiral, Owen.

Those, uh... women.

Greta's friends.

They're in Portugal now.

Did you know that?

They're on the trail of your little girl.

Your little project.

My wife.

You're being ridiculous.

I won't rise to it.

What are we doing?

What... What have we done?

You're not built for this, Owen.

It worries me.

It worries me that you are.

For God's sake, Liam.

Hmm.

He's gone.

For now.

The author's only published work, The Doll Complex,

is considered one of the definitive works on the mother-daughter relationship.

Published in 2004, The Doll Complex explores...

2004?

...historical trauma and offers what practitioners at the time...

What's taking so long?

Something's not right.

Right. I'm gonna see what's happened.

There's no one there.

We've stopped.

Mrs. Pryor?

- Mrs. Pryor? - Jodie?

Mrs. Pryor?

It's locked.

What do you mean, it's locked?

What do you mean, "what do I mean"? It's locked, Dara. We're locked in.

What was that?

She's leaving. Jodie's mum, she's leaving!

What's going on?

- She's not here. - What?

Jodie's not here. She was never here.

What the hell was that?

Yep, that was an explosion.

I smell smoke.

Oh Jesus, I can see smoke!

Shit!

Pull yourself together, Dara!

It's no time to panic!

It's exactly the time to panic.

How can there not be a better time to fucking panic?

Jesus Christ, I'm gonna wet myself.

- Help! - Help!

Friday night, it's party time Feeling ready, looking fine

Viene Diego rumbeando With the magic in his eyes...

My God.

Oh my God, you're a fucking genius, Dara.

It was 75% off.

Oh, you beautiful, tight bastard.

Aserejé, ja, dejé

Dejebe tu dejebere seibiunouva Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi...

This is all so fucked up.

Why would Mrs. Pryor try and kill us?

She wasn't Jodie's mum, Dara.

- Well, who was she? - I don't know.

But Jodie is dead.

I was right all along.

I was right all along, and you two, you doubted me.

You're like that lad.

- That fella from the Bible. - What fella from the Bible?

You know whenever they all go to the garden,

they hear the cock crowing, and one lad's all like,

"Here, I think Jesus is talking bollocks about being crucified,"

so Jesus has to show him all his holes.

Peter.

Yous are doubting Peters.

God, there's lapsed Catholicism, and then there's you.

I... I sensed it when she lifted that box.

Sensed what?

Girls, that mad bitch might still be here. We can't stick around.

Maybe it's because I've been around actors for so long.

I sensed it was all a performance.

The way she, uh...

The way she looked at that box. There was something about it.

I wasn't sure if I should bring it with us, so...

Shit.

...I didn't.

Mysterious lady with mysterious request.

I keep yours.

You have mine?

Ah.

Could I interest you in an inflatable banana?

Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to depart on our flight to Dublin.

Please fasten your seatbelts and place your seat in the upright position.

Fucking Dublin.

Give over. It was the first flight, Robyn.

I'd have jumped on one to Timbuktu.

This thing is totally hammered.

We just need to get back to Ireland. When we get back, then we can--

Have a breakdown?

Work out what to do.

Hello?

Hello?

Thank you.

- Three proseccos, please. - Certainly, madam.

Thanks.

Sláinte.