Original subtitles

(eerie orchestral music) (soft vocalizing)

- I was always frightened of the house

from the first moment I saw it.

(ominous orchestral music)

It seemed to take all the pain, all the fear,

everything that lurks in the darkest corners of the mind,

and feed off it.

(ominous orchestral music)

I don't want sympathy if that's what you think.

I don't want you to pity me.

I'm only trying to explain.

When my mother died, I thought I would never recover.

I desperately needed a distraction

and I suppose that's how it all started.

With Michael.

- Yet in other respects, many other respects,

he is defensive about his influences.

When asked for example if he was influenced

by contemporary philosophers at the time,

he denied it on grounds of--

- [Lucy] How are we supposed to concentrate?

- What do you mean?

- Just look at him, Ophelia.

- (shushing) I'm trying to listen.

- [Lucy] Do you know who he's married to?

- No.

- Roisin Mulvery.

- The writer? - Yeah.

He goes for brains too.

- Because his characters constantly

question what it is to have a sense of self.

(deliberative orchestral music)

(bell ringing) - Watch it!

- Sorry!

Shit.

- You all right? - Thanks, thanks, sorry.

- You missed this.

- Oh, thank you.

- Looks pretty dull to me.

- Yes, it was rather.

Some Irish lecturer.

- Not Callaghan?

- That's right.

- Yeah, I know him.

Complete charlatan.

Ignore him.

I'd rip those up if I were you.

- It was a chance encounter.

I might've forgotten all about it.

But chance threw us together again.

(knocking on door) - Come in.

- Dr. Callaghan.

- Ah, hello again.

- I had a supervision with Professor Thomas.

There's a note.

- Yeah, yeah.

Please, sit down.

One second.

You know, I really need a system. I can never find what I'm looking for.

What are we doing today?

- Hardy.

- Hardy.

Well, there you have it.

Is he in poets or is he in novelists?

- Both, I expect.

- Exactly.

It's chaos.

I'm supposed to be an academic, not a librarian.

Right, I'm gonna stop this now.

Sorry.

Hardy, you said?

- Yes. - Yes.

God, I'm so sorry.

I never even asked you your name.

I have a list here somewhere.

- Ophelia.

- Pretty Ophelia.

- I'm sorry?

- Who said that?

Claudius, isn't it?

- Oh, I see, I thought. (laughing)

That's a shame.

(fluttery orchestral music)

- Well, Hardy isn't really my area, but we'll manage.

Have you read this one?

- "The House at Knockdara."

And it's better than Hardy?

- No, I didn't...

Well take it anyway.

I'd like to know what you think,

as long as you don't think it's terrible.

It's about to be published.

- Congratulations. - Thank you.

You mind if I smoke?

- Of course not, it's your room.

- I've had three students complain already,

which is fair enough I suppose these days,

but I feel like I've got more to say when I smoke, you know?

When I'm with them, I got nothing to offer.

- Does your wife let you smoke?

- Yes, my wife lets me smoke.

That's not the problem.

- She's a writer too, isn't she?

- Yes, a much more successful writer than me.

Now how do you know that?

- Research.

- Reading around your subject?

- Mm, something like that.

(fluttery orchestral music) (panting)

The moment I gave into it,

there seemed to be no going back.

It felt like I had no control.

I tried not to think about his wife,

the suffering we were causing,

until there was no hiding from it.

(deliberative orchestral music)

- [Michael] Ladies.

- Yeah, I know. (giggling)

- Hello.

- Hi.

- I'm Roisin.

- I know.

I'm Ophelia.

I'm such a huge fan.

I just love your books.

Sorry, you must get that all the time.

- Are you reading English, Ophelia?

- [Ophelia] Yes.

- You might know Michael, my husband.

- That's right.

- He's just published his first novel.

The reviews are annoyingly good.

Whereas I've just spent the last 10 minutes

listening to some dreary old don explain my own work to me.

Apparently, it's not bad for popular fiction,

which came as a huge relief you can imagine.

- Oh dear, that's not good.

- Patronizing prick.

Michael knows how to play to these people,

but I, whew, I find it difficult.

- Some of the men are awful.

- And the women.

They have more sophisticated methods of locking you out,

but they're no better.

It's a terribly unfashionable thing to say,

but not all women are allies, Ophelia.

Some are the enemy.

(suspenseful orchestral music)

Right, I think that's as close as we're gonna get it.

- I think you look amazing.

- That's very sweet of you.

One piece of advice.

Don't start all this until you absolutely have to.

Once you start the deceit,

you're chasing your face to the grave.

(compact clattering)

(deliberative orchestral music)

It was lovely to meet you. - You too.

- [Roisin] Good luck.

- That's when I should have walked away.

(fire crackling)

But how could I have known where it would lead?

(intense orchestral music) (fire crackling)

Do you want me to carry on?

There were other things too of course.

I told myself they weren't important,

but I was wrong.

- You're not the first and you won't be the last.

- Excuse me?

- I think you know what I mean.

(somber orchestral music)

- [Michael] Hi.

- What was all that about? - Hm?

- I saw you from the window.

- Christ, it's a nightmare.

That girl was a student of mine.

She left last year,

but still hangs around Cambridge.

Anyway, she failed one of her final papers

and she blames me.

Admittedly, it was the one that I taught her, but still.

She harangues me from time to time.

- Right.

- I really must talk to the porters about her.

They're not even supposed to let her in.

- Is that true?

- Of course it's true.

Why, what do you think?

- I don't know what to think, to be honest.

You ignore me when you arrive

and then you cozy up to your wife as you walk past me?

- We have to be careful, obviously.

For now, at least.

Come on.

- Oh god, Michael.

What are we doing?

- I'm gonna talk to her.

- No.

I'm not sure you should.

Are you saying that you can walk away from this?

Because I can't.

I don't know what to do.

I love you.

I love you.

(deliberative orchestral music)

- And just like that, he disappeared.

For days, I heard nothing.

I should have let him go.

I should never have gone after him.

But I had no choice.

(deliberative orchestral music)

(doorbell ringing)

- What the hell are you doing here?

Since you've come back, you can help me.

Come on.

Poet was right to interrupt wake.

- [Ophelia] I'm sorry?

- Six letters, ends in L.

- I'm looking for Michael.

- Would you stick the kettle on there?

- Is he here?

I'm one of his students.

- Michael?

No, no, Michael's gone.

- Gone where?

- Donegal.

- He's in Ireland?

- Aye, I may be slowing up,

but the last time I looked,

Donegal was in Ireland.

Poets.

Come on now, Roisin.

You're supposed to be the writer.

- I think you've confused me with someone.

My name's Ophelia.

I need to speak to him.

- (banging) Virgil.

Right, R, interrupts wake, vigil, Virgil.

- I should go.

Thanks for your help.

(deliberative orchestral music)

Hello?

(suspenseful orchestral music)

- Not open yet, my love.

It's a private function.

- I'm a friend of Michael Callaghan's.

I'm looking for his--

- Jesus, are you just here?

You'd better hurry.

- What do you mean?

- The church, it's only over the way.

These are for after.

- After what?

- Angels of the lord.

May Christ who called you take you to himself.

May angels lead you to the bosom of Abraham.

(Mary crying)

Eternal rest grant unto your servant, Roisin.

May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed

through the mercy of God rest in peace.

- [Crowd] Amen.

- (crying) My wee girl.

- Ophelia, what the hell?

- Oh my god, Michael, oh my god.

She's dead?

- Yes.

- Oh my god.

- You really shouldn't be here.

- You just left.

I didn't know where you were.

What happened?

- There was a fire in the house. Please, you have to go, Ophelia.

Please, you have to go. - I'm so sorry.

I came because I had to tell you.

Oh my god.

- Tell me what?

What did you have to tell me?

- Michael, I'm pregnant.

- Where did you go?

- I'm sorry about that.

I dunno, I just needing a minute, you know?

I think I'm going to go back to the house.

- Will we see you at the pub?

- Yeah, yeah, maybe.

I don't know.

Just take care of everyone for me, will you?

- Michael-- - Please, Mary.

Please.

Quickly.

(deliberative orchestral music)

How did you find me?

- Your book.

You told me it was here, remember?

Michael, what happened?

How did it start?

- A cigarette, they think.

They found her on the sofa in our bedroom.

She'd passed out.

She wouldn't have known anything about it.

The fire took her and half the house with it.

- I'm so sorry.

- How long have you known?

- I promise you, I didn't.

I got off the bus and then went into the pub--

- About the baby, I mean.

- A few days.

I couldn't get hold of you.

Michael, why didn't you tell me?

Why didn't you phone?

- Guilt, I suppose.

You were the first person that I wanted to tell,

the only person I wanted to see.

I just felt like I had to, I dunno.

Jesus, I'm so glad you're here.

- I'm sorry I gave you a shock.

(deliberative orchestral music)

As soon as I saw the house,

I should have got out of that car,

walked away and never looked back.

- Christ, Sean's here.

Let me deal with this, okay?

(speaking in foreign language)

Sorry, Sean, this is Ophelia.

- Hello.

- [Sean] How's it's going?

- I'm from Roisin's literary agents in London.

- Well look, I can come back another time.

- No, please, no.

While you're here, show me what you're thinking.

- After you.

(somber ambient music)

- Is this the room where it started?

- Yeah.

(phone ringing)

Excuse me.

Hello, Mary?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

(creaking) (deliberative music)

- Not all women are allies, Ophelia.

Some are the enemy.

(fire crackling)

- So you're like a publisher, are you?

- No, I dealt with Roisin's books.

Rights, that sort of thing.

It must have been horrendous.

The fire, I mean.

- I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner, to be honest.

The place is a death trap.

You see that?

It's polyurethane foam,

basically solid petroleum.

- The sofa in the bedroom, was it--

- Aye, it's the same.

God help her.

- Did you know her?

- Roisin?

Aye.

I live in the village,

so she was a bit of a celebrity, you know?

Michael wanted to keep the funeral small,

but there's a big do tonight.

Maybe I'll see you there?

- Maybe.

- Are you staying in the pub?

- No, I mean, I'm not sure.

I think Michael's sorting it out.

- Well, maybe we could--

- Sorry about that, Sean.

I'm all yours now.

Why don't you show me in here?

- Yeah, so the floorboards need...

(knocking on door)

(eerie ambient music)

(knocking on door)

(doorknob clattering)

(owl hooting)

- I told her about you, you know?

- Who?

- Roisin.

I told her about you the night she died.

That's why I brought her here, to the house,

to tell her it was over,

that she could have the house

and that I would leave her and never come back,

that she could write her books and, in time,

perhaps forget all about me,

but that I, (sighing)

I needed to be with you.

- And what did she say?

- She was angry,

but not so much at the news.

Like I said, things were already over.

It was more the fact that I was actually saying it,

you know?

- What do you mean?

(Michael sighing)

- I'm a coward.

Ophelia, my whole life,

I've let circumstances make my decisions for me.

When I met you,

I thought she'd find out soon enough and throw me out.

Or she wouldn't and we'd just drift along

or you'd get bored and find someone else.

But I soon realized that I couldn't risk losing you.

And no matter how much it hurt her,

I had to tell her that it was over.

Perhaps this is my punishment.

- You don't believe any of that, do you?

- I shouldn't have left her alone that night,

but she threw me out.

She was so drunk.

I went down to the pub.

I think it was about 1:00 in the morning when the phone rang.

(phone ringing)

- Hello, Sheila's Bar?

Aye, he is yeah.

(faint siren blaring) (people chattering)

- What is it?

What happened?

Sheila?

That's my house, that's my house!

Sean! - Jesus, Michael.

I'm so sorry.

Come with me, come with me.

- Where's Roisin?

- Michael, I can't let you in there, all right?

- We have to.

I mean, she's up there.

We've got to get her out of there, right?

- She was asleep on the sofa.

She wouldn't have known anything about it.

(intense ambient music) (people chattering)

- Michael, it's not your fault.

Listen, I understand.

When my mother died, I blamed myself,

which was ridiculous.

She'd been very ill.

- You never mention your father.

- He left before I was born.

They think my mother was too much for him.

It's not just that I miss her,

it's that I...

- What?

- I don't know where I belong anymore.

- You belong with me.

- But how do you feel?

And what about this baby?

- I feel like I need you.

I feel like when I saw you standing by the church,

I never felt so relieved in my life.

And I feel if you let me,

I want to look after you both.

- I love you, Michael.

(knocking on door)

Who's that?

- I'm not sure.

Hey.

At the top of the stairs, first door on the left,

there's a bedroom.

I left some clothes out for you just in case you were cold.

I'll go see who that is, okay?

- Okay.

- [Michael] I'm sorry, I just couldn't face it.

- [Mary] You couldn't face it?

Aye, that's just like you.

- [Michael] For god's sake...

(faint speaking) (somber orchestral music)

- They'll be there all night, I'd say.

I said to she...

What the devil do you think you're doing?!

- [Michael] Mary.

- [Mary] Jesus, Michael, have you seen what she's wearing?!

- This is Ophelia.

She came from London, from Roisin's agency.

- [Ophelia] Hello.

- She left her bag in the pub,

so I put some of Roisin's clothes out for her.

- [Mary] Agency, what does that mean?

- Her literary agent.

Ophelia's flight as delayed so she missed the service.

- I'm very sorry for your loss.

- Get us a drink there Michael, will you?

- Yeah.

- Good god, it's Baltic in here.

Come on now, Olivia, we'll go and sit by the fire.

Sorry, you gave me a wee fright there.

♪ I dreamed last night ♪

♪ My true love came in ♪

♪ So softly she came that her feet made no din ♪

- Come on, now, Mary.

It's okay, it's okay.

- Your first dance, was it not?

- Mm-hmm.

- And then your father got up with me.

Do you remember?

- I do.

♪ She stepped up to me and this she did say ♪

♪ It will not be long, love ♪ (Michael humming)

♪ Till our wedding day ♪ (Michael humming)

- Michael?

- Hm?

- I think I'll go up to bed.

- You have everything you need?

- Yeah, thanks.

- All right.

Well, goodnight.

- Good night. - Mm-hmm.

(Mary humming)

(whimsical ragtime music)

- Okay, no, no, no.

Sorry, enough. (record skipping)

We need to talk.

- All right.

What is it you want to talk about? You want to apologize, is that it?

- Apologize?

- Oh, spare me the injured innocence, Michael.

You were supposed to be looking after her.

- [Michael] I did my best, Mary.

You know how difficult she could be.

- Maybe because everything was forever

and always on your terms.

Bringing her to this wretched house,

making me move to the village to be near her.

- I was never good enough for her,

not for your little girl. - You're joking, aren't you?

No one was ever good enough.

I always told her but she settled for you.

- I've done nothing wrong.

- Oh, is that so?

- Yes.

- That girl upstairs,

you expect me to believe she's from Roisin's agency.

Who the hell is she?

- [Michael] Mary, stop this now, please!

(knocking on door) (eerie ambient music)

(knocking on door)

- [Mary] I'm telling you, Sheila, there's something just not right.

This wee girl in the house

and my Roisin not yet cold.

I'm gonna go and see what she's up to.

Call you back.

(deliberative ambient music)

- Hello?

- Hello again. (Ophelia gasping)

Did you make it in time?

- Yes, just about.

- I'm Sheila, by the way.

- Hi.

I think I left my bag here yesterday.

- Oh, it's yours, is it?

Yes, it's in the kitchen.

Come on through.

- That's okay, I can just wait here.

- No bother.

- Have you seen my nana?

- [Sheila] Hello, darling!

Is this it?

- That's it, thank you.

- What's your name?

- Ophelia.

- That's a funny name.

- What's yours?

- I'm Roisin.

(eerie ambient music)

- Hop in.

Did you forget to get dressed?

- I left my bag at the pub.

Would you drop me back at the house, do you mind?

- Aye, no bother.

- Sean? - Mm-hmm?

- Can I ask you something?

- Sure.

- What were they like together?

Roisin and Michael, I mean.

- They were so happy together.

I remember that.

Everyone here was jealous.

They were soulmates.

So it's just awful what happened, you know.

I volunteered to help that night,

the night of the fire.

I found her body or what was left...

(Ophelia crying)

I didn't mean to upset you.

- No, no, it's me.

It's just such a shock, that's all.

- I hope you know that you can trust me.

- What do you mean?

- Nothing.

I don't know.

I'm just saying.

- Right.

Well, thanks for rescuing me.

- Aye, no bother.

(engine rumbling)

(knocking on door) (somber orchestral music)

(knocking on window)

(computer chiming)

(mouse clicking) (computer chiming)

- What are you doing?

- Michael, what's going on?

- What do you mean?

- Who's Ruth?

- She's Roisin's friend.

How did you get in here?

- There are messages from her.

Does she not know? - About us?

- About Roisin.

- Well, no one knows,

not in Cambridge anyhow.

- What do you mean no one knows?

- She was a popular writer, Ophelia.

We just wanted to do things quietly here, you know,

lay her to rest without any outsiders,

without any press.

That's all.

- But this Ruth, these messages.

She sounds worried.

Has he done something?

What does she think you've done?

- Let me tell you a little something about Ruth.

Five years ago, Roisin won a writing award.

There was a party afterwards.

Ruth made a drunken pass at me

practically under Roisin's nose.

I turned her down, of course,

but since then, she's been trying to make trouble for me.

- Oh my god.

Is she in Cambridge?

- [Michael] Yeah.

She was at the drinks, remember?

- That was Ruth?

- Mm-hmm.

- [Ophelia] She spoke to me.

- When?

- That day at college.

She warned me off you.

- Well, there you go.

I mean, she was obsessed with Roisin.

Jealous maybe, I don't know.

But you've got nothing to worry about, I promise you.

Where have you been anyway?

- Where have you been?

- I left you a note.

I went into the village to meet Paul, the estate agent,

but he was in Dublin.

And then I came back here

and Mary told me that you took off

down the driveway in your pajamas.

So I went back out to collect your bag

and Sheila said you'd already been in.

- Are they all reporting back to you?

- No, no, it's not like that.

But you needn't have walked all that way.

I told you, you can wear Roisin's clothes.

- I don't want to wear Roisin's clothes!

- I'm sorry, I didn't think.

- I woke up, you'd gone.

I was scared.

And then Mary was in the kitchen

and I couldn't face her.

Oh my god, this is such a mess!

- I shouldn't have left you.

I shouldn't have left you alone.

I'm sorry.

But you looked so peaceful sleeping.

Why don't you go to bed?

- Now?

- [Michael] Yes, now.

- I'm fine.

- We can talk about this later.

This isn't just about us anymore.

Hey, you're amazing,

how you've handled this.

We'll work it out, I promise you.

- I would quite like to rest.

(creaking) (wind whistling)

(ticking)

(wind whistling) (knocking on door)

(door creaking)

(door slamming)

(knocking on door)

Michael?

(knocking on door)

(knocking on door) (eerie ambient music)

(door creaking) (eerie ambient music)

(knocking on door) (eerie ambient music)

(moves into intense orchestral music)

(wind whistling)

(intense orchestral music) (Ophelia panting)

When I was a little girl,

my mother told me there was no such thing as ghosts.

But I was still afraid.

I need to get out of here please!

You have to help me.

(intense orchestral music) (faint speaking)

I can't stop thinking about her.

- You think there's something strange going on?

- [Ophelia] I've seen things, I've heard things.

- [Cloda] Bad things happen here.

She's not the first and she won't be the last.

- [Michael] Ophelia,

what is it that you think is happening here?

(door slamming)

- [Ophelia] I feel like I'm losing my mind.

- It's not safe here.

- There's no keeping secrets here, not in this place.

(thudding)

♪ Sometimes I feel I've got to run away ♪

♪ I've got to get away ♪

♪ From the pain that you drive into the heart of me ♪

♪ Tainted love ♪