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[BLANK_AUDIO] Caught meeting tonight in Portland there.

Don't wait up.

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Have you picked up the

wine order for tomorrow night?

Not yet.

I need this dinner to go well, Heather.

I know.

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Probably a fox got in.

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I need a rock.

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Carla?

What are you going to do?

Put it out of its misery.

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Hi.

Oh, hello.

Oh, thanks Ruby.

What is that?

It's a worry stone.

See?

It's comforting.

What are you worrying about?

Nothing.

Okay.

Bye.

You're going out on your own?

Going to my mate.

You be careful, okay?

Yeah, I will.

Your mum know you're going?

Yeah. That's good. [BLANK_AUDIO]

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I was just coming for more wine.

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That one ordered more wine.

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What the fuck are you doing?

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What the fuck?

Tonight?

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You had to do that tonight.

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I needed this to go well.

And you knew that.

Hmm?

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Fuck!

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I'll call the

exterminator in the morning.

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That's £39.40, thanks.

Martin, it's my favourite time of year.

Helen!

Not too hot, not too cold.

Am I done yet?

After her.

How much was it again?

Fuck's sake.

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Stop shouting.

I'm coming, even now.

Stop fucking shouting.

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What the fuck is going on in here then?

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Can I go out tonight?

Ask your dad.

He ain't my dad.

Don't start.

He's asleep.

Well then.

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Oi, I'm going out.

I've got work.

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Night, then, James.

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You haven't changed a bit?

I mean, I'll do then.

When are you due?

A couple of months.

Wow.

Thanks.

You have?

Sorry.

Changed.

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Oh, God, I hope so.

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So what do you want, then?

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Uh, well, I, I, I, how are you?

How have you been since

we last saw each other?

I mean, I see the bits and bobs on your

social, but, uh, you've

had kids now, haven't you?

Yeah, four.

Pretty hard work, if I'm

honest, but I love them in that.

How about you?

You've got kids?

Uh, no.

No, I'd like to, but, uh, no.

Let's hurry up.

I know.

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My old man wanted another, and I just

told him to fuck off.

So what happened?

Just happened, I guess.

Now he's all happy about it.

And you're not?

Why are you the one getting up with it at

night and changing nappies and such?

Never helped with all that.

He's traditional like that, I think.

I don't mind.

I do mind, you know.

Well, I must say you seem pretty together

for a month, nearly five.

But I have to be, don't I?

And where do you work now?

Cashier, a supermarket.

Oh, yeah?

Whatever, it's fine.

Look, why did you want a mate?

Um, yeah.

Look, I know that we

weren't exactly mates at school,

or we actually were

when I first moved here.

In fact, you were my

first friend, my only friend.

I remember my accent used to be.

Anyway, um, yeah, after that, um,

before we got to the stage where you

would carry in that law,

and I definitely wasn't your friend.

Do you remember before?

Like in year seven when

we'd hang out after school?

You saw of.

Do you remember that one day

after school with the pigeon?

Nope.

Perhaps I should start

at the beginning, I think.

Yeah, that would help.

Yeah.

Um, do you know if there's anywhere more

private that we could talk?

I have to be at work in half an hour so

you can walk with me if you like.

Okay.

Look, so I'm sorry if this is all a bit

too much information.

I appreciate that we

haven't been in touch with you.

Go on, one there.

All right, um, so my husband and I have

been trying to conceive a

baby for several years now.

And steps working.

Well, no.

Is there him?

It's usually the man.

No, we looked into it

and it appears to be me.

We do know that there's only about two

days when you're really ready, yeah?

Yeah, we've done all the time.

We've tried everything, I promise you.

We also tried some

IVF, but it's not working.

That's him.

I got pregnant the first

time every time I tried.

Oh, that's wonderful for

you that you found it so easy.

Do you want this one?

What?

No.

Suit yourself?

Carla!

Could you slow down?

Yeah, I heard that.

Nick, that's just it.

I wanted to talk to you about something.

Go on.

This is in the

strictest confidence, all right?

Please don't tell him.

Go on.

My husband, Simon, he's

been emailing another woman.

Hold her.

I ain't good at agony

and shit, just so you know.

I ain't gonna be much help, so

that's why you want it to me.

No.

No, it isn't.

I'm not one for being nice in that.

What's that word?

Empathizing.

Whatever.

I'm not good at that.

Carla!

I've been going on for two years.

You've let this carry on for two years.

Please.

For fuck's sake.

This week, he's emailed her to say that

he wants them to finally meet.

Why's it taking them two years to meet?

She said she's overseas.

How do you know?

The emails.

Exactly.

Sorry?

I'm sorry, but I don't think you've got

much of a leg to stand on.

You've been reading

his emails for two years.

You should have said

something when it started.

He's gonna hold that against you.

I haven't been reading them.

Well, I have, but not in

the way that you think.

I haven't been accessing his account.

How do you know what

he's been writing to her?

Because it's me.

Who's you?

The other woman.

It's me.

He's been emailing me.

You crafty little cunt.

I love it.

I was paranoid that

he was cheating on me.

So a couple of years back, I created a

fake profile and messaged him.

I guess I was right to be paranoid

because he messaged back.

Yes, he bloody did.

Probably shouldn't have let it go on so

long, but he kept getting in touch.

I love it.

I'm not proud of myself.

Why not? I would be.

It was like you said, I don't

really have a leg to stand on.

Oh, fuck that.

Honey trap, mate. You set a honey trap

and you went for it.

Everyone does it.

Everyone?

Yeah, the only way to make sure is that

your bloke isn't playing the field.

Men are like this, see?

And you have to catch them out, just to

remind them that you're there sometimes.

I didn't think he was like that.

Well, of course he is. I ain't never come

across a man who isn't.

Cheating is a level of disrespect that's

tantamount to violence.

You know, it's acceptable to some and not

to others, not to me, eh?

My bloke is one finger on

me and my kids and he's out.

What are you going on about?

I'm just saying, in my

world, men respect women.

What's this wildekebung going on about?

Is it different to mine?

No, of course not. I'm just

saying that, just saying what?

Because so far, all you've done is made

me go out on my way to meet you,

chat shit about your stupid husband, and

then basically insulted me.

Well, look, I'm sorry.

Actually, I'm done.

Fuck's sake.

Look, just hear me now, OK? The pigeon.

What?

The pigeon in the field at the back of

the school. Do you remember?

It was you and me on our way home and it

was that pigeon with the broken wing.

What's the pigeon got

to do with your husband?

What you did seemed to

come so naturally to you.

It's ten pound fifteen, please.

I wanted to do this on my quiet.

Do what?

When did you finish?

Not for an hour. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to do this. When did you finish?

Not for another four hours.

Can you take a break?

No.

Look, whatever it is, just tell me.

Meet me at the loading bay.

I can't.

I don't care.

Meet me there in five minutes.

No.

Look, I've got ten thousand pounds in

this bag and it's yours.

Find a way to leave.

Fuck.

Chills closed, love. Go to the next one.

[crowd chattering]

The fuck is it then?

What the fuck have I bailed on work for?

I want you to kill Simon.

What?

I've got ten thousand pounds in this bag

and there's another forty once it's done.

I...

He's lied.

He's cheated.

He's hurt.

He's emotionally and

physically abused me.

I don't just want him out of my life.

I want him gone completely.

You're the only person

I know who can do it.

Kill him.

Kill Simon.

I want him dead.

You've done it before.

To a fucking pigeon.

A pigeon? Are you mental?

What's wrong with you?

Fifty thousand pounds.

You're thinking about it, aren't you?

No.

Look.

I don't know who you think I am.

But I'm not that, okay?

You've made a mistake about this.

I'm going.

It's a shitload of money.

Well not really actually.

Not really.

Oh come on, it is

when you've got nothing.

Well that would be none of your business.

He's been gambling again, hasn't he?

What?

Your bloke.

What was it you said?

That stupid cunt has

lost our rent money again.

You should be a bit more careful who you

befriend on social media yourself.

Logan.

It's you.

It's fancy.

I'm good with words.

Look, I'm sorry.

I know that you were hoping that he could

be your ticket out of this place, but

look, that's why I'm here.

I just needed to find out a bit more

about you before making this proposition.

I mean, for all I knew,

you could have been loaded.

I had to make sure my

offer wouldn't be rejected.

Well it will be.

I can't do it.

50 grand would help, wouldn't it?

Look at you pretending as if 50,000 isn't

something you're desperate for.

I don't know who you think I am.

You need this.

No I don't.

Yes you do.

You got me wrong.

Fuck you, you got me wrong.

What are you talking about?

(footsteps)

Oh, thanks, love.

You all right with the Littlans?

Oh yeah.

They're all fed.

Oh, we'll be fine, love.

I'll be back late.

Oh, you had a supermarket then?

No, not this evening, something else.

Be careful, mate.

Always.

(ominous music)

Why are you there, Carlos?

All right, tell.

Oh, God.

Why don't you join us?

Not today, yeah.

You all right, yeah?

Yeah, can't complain.

No.

Later, later.

(ominous music)

(ominous music)

How do you do?

What are you doing out there?

You shocked me.

Don't want no one seeing me come in.

Oh yeah.

It's basic stuff.

Yeah, of course.

75 grand ain't worth

the jail term for murder.

I'm not fucking this up.

We need a proper plan.

I ain't never done this

before, not a human anyways.

So we wanna work it out properly.

No amateur shit.

Yeah, you're absolutely right.

We do it properly.

Which means it won't

be happening quickly.

Okay.

It means I wanna scope out your place,

work out timings, make

sure nothing can go wrong.

You really do sound like

you've done this before.

I've watched a lot of telly.

I Googled it.

Since we met, I've been

researching, carefully mined.

Not on my home computer.

Don't have one.

Went down the library, didn't I?

So I know all the

common mistakes people make.

I ain't planning to make them.

What mistakes?

Like fingerprints.

Wearing gloves, ain't I?

Oh, very good.

And I'm reckoning you have a dishwasher.

I want you to make sure it's on the

hottest wash you've got

when you clean it, okay?

Of course.

I ain't gonna be seen when I come here.

That's why I came in at the back.

And when we do it, we'll do it at night.

We'll cover my face and make

sure that I've got an alibi.

I don't know.

If it is nighttime,

then my husband will say

that I'm in bed with him,

which wouldn't be lying for him

because that's what he'll think.

Sleep so heavy,

wouldn't notice either way.

All right, okay.

When I do it, I'll

make sure that the weapon

is from somewhere random and unconnected.

And then I'll chuck it in with the

recycling at the dump.

Great.

So I was thinking we make it

look like a botched burglary.

I've done a few house jobs before

and I know all the

stuff needed to make it look

like I've broken into steel.

I'll take some stuff, you know,

we'll call it collateral damage,

and then it'll look

more authentic that way.

Yeah, or I could make some stuff up

so you don't actually have to physically

take anything with you.

No, I wanna take some stuff.

Well, what if you're caught with them?

I won't be, I'll sell it

on, don't worry about it.

Yeah, I'd really rather not

lose any of my belongings.

What?

Well, I'm paying you

an awful lot already.

I'd rather we found an alternative.

You want me to kill your husband

and you're worried about losing your iPad

and some bits of jewelry.

All right, well, if we can agree

some not so important items then.

You can lay out the

things you don't mind going.

Can't believe we're talking about this.

I'm just not entirely

convinced that this is the best idea.

Don't you think it's a bit cliche?

What?

A botched burglary.

It's a bit cliche, no?

Don't they see through it?

You come up with something then.

Well, actually I have, go on.

So I cook him a lovely meal

and slip something into

his drink which sedates him

and once he's out I call you

and that's when you kill him.

And then what?

Well, then you get rid of him.

What?

I dispose of him.

In bags.

Where?

Where would we do that?

And also the drugs in the system,

if they find the body

they would detect that.

Cut him up and put him

in bags in the freezer

and slowly throw him out and

feed him to a dog or something.

I mean, have you got a dog?

Jesus.

Well, if it's eaten

it can't be discovered.

Fuck. What?

What?

Your fucks.

No, I'm just trying to be thorough.

If you do a botched

burglary you could leave evidence.

This way we get rid of it all.

So you can drug him and cut up his body

but you can't do the killing yourself.

There's a world of difference

between slipping a

sedative into someone's drink

and hacking them to death.

And I wouldn't be doing the

disposing, that's your job.

That's why I'm paying you.

And how do you explain his disappearance?

His infidelity.

You know, he's run away.

I assume he's left the country.

I'm a scorned woman betrayed.

He's the bad guy.

And when he doesn't turn up at all,

don't you think they'd get suspicious?

I don't know, I'll burn his passport,

make out that he packed

a bag and properly went.

I don't know, I mean.

It's all a bit far fetched.

And to be honest, it's violent.

Oh, and beating him

to death isn't violent.

You were the one going on about

not being that kind of person.

And here you are coming up

with the worst kind of nasty shit.

That's why I need you.

I can't do any of this myself.

Look, are you sure you

want him actually dead?

Yes.

Not just exposed and

chased off in some way.

No.

You want him properly, brutally murdered.

Dead.

Yeah.

Okay, well if it's to be

me and not you to do it,

then I want to do it my way.

Well, I just think it's a bit risky.

I mean, what if he defends himself?

What if he overpowers you?

Now you're right about that.

So, okay, here's what we do then.

Some of your plan too.

You drug him at dinner,

or better yet, get him good and drunk.

Like pass out drunk,

would that be possible?

Definitely.

And then when he's out for the count,

you call me, I come over

and I do it with,

with--

No.

No, no, no, that's not right.

Something harder, like a poker

or a candlestick or something.

Miss Carla in the sitting

room with a candlestick.

(laughing)

No, okay.

Something like that.

Mm.

I mean, it would hurt,

but I don't think it would knock him out.

Well, it is a very boring book.

What you got up here?

This.

Oh, he got that for some golf tournament

where it was the only one in

his category that turned up.

Yeah, perfect.

So, I knock him out,

take some stuff,

and then it looked like a

burglary that went wrong

because he was drunk

and trying to play hero.

And I'll take a sleeping pill too,

and I'll wake up in the

morning to discover him.

Yeah.

Yeah, do it.

Go on, come in, like

it's the next morning.

Oh my God.

My darling.

Oh, yes.

Yes.

No, but do it by the window.

Make sure the neighbors can see.

Okay.

Help, help.

Okay, quick.

Now phone the police and report this

horrible, tragic crime.

Oh, officer, I went to

bed early after dinner

and he was downstairs having

a nightcap watching the telly.

And whoever it was knew

exactly what they were doing.

Do I really sound like that?

Yeah.

Wow.

So what do you think then?

Yeah.

Yeah, I think it's good.

Only good.

I think it sounds fucking mint.

I'm just still a bit loathe to lose too

many of my belongings.

You know, man, you gotta let that go.

Well, maybe getting rid of this man,

but I'm doing

everything I can to make sure

that every other area of my life

remains unaffected.

I'm not sure I can guarantee that.

Things will change.

You're gonna have to

get your story straight.

Yeah, I will.

No, I mean like really straight.

They're going to question you a lot.

It won't be easy.

I know.

Do you?

Yeah, of course I do.

I'm not complete innocent.

All right.

Look, I know you remember

me as being a bit of a loser.

I have lived a life since then, you know?

I have done stuff.

I'm not squeaky clean.

I'll take your word for it.

Wow.

It still works, isn't it?

What does?

It's that thing that you do.

It's your face, your whole demeanor.

Makes you seem so powerful, if you like.

God, it takes me back.

I used to be terrified of you.

You used to have such

a presence at school.

I mean, it was amazing.

You weren't that big.

I mean, we were pretty

much the same height,

but I would never have

tried to stand up to you.

Never.

Just the things you'd say.

Look, I don't even remember

talking to you after year 8,

so whatever you think I did

was probably someone else.

Yeah, probably.

I mean, it's all in the

past now anyway, isn't it?

Yes.

So can we get on with this now, please?

Yeah.

When do you want it done?

I mean, I reckon I could get everything

ready in a couple of weeks.

Gosh, two weeks.

I can't do any sooner.

No, no, no, of course not.

I mean, two weeks is so imminent.

I just assumed you'd

want to wait until then.

Well, might I ask how you plan on doing

all of this with that,

because I'd imagine that

it would get in the way.

Look, don't worry.

I can do this.

Just make sure you leave

the back door open, like

he's been outside for a

fag and forgotten to lock up.

I won't be climbing

through windows or nothing.

And if he gets fighty?

He won't.

I'll give him a good pounding on the head

before he's even

roused from his boozy sleep.

If all goes well.

It will.

Look,

I'm only a half joke, eight,

but I won't be paying for any special

needs schooling down the line.

That's all I'm saying.

I hear you loud and clear.

I'm just being practical and realistic.

This is a business transaction.

I don't want it

turned into anything else.

And actually,

on that matter,

if you ever think up the bright idea of

trying to blackmail me for more money

once this is all done,

I'll have no hesitation in taking you

straight to the police station.

If that means I'm in prison too,

then so be it.

I won't go down without you.

Well done.

What?

Nice speech.

Fuck off.

Magmina.

Got the makings of a real hard nut.

And you got the makings

of a patronizing bitch.

Well, then I guess we're a bit more like

each other than we thought.

Whose are these?

Yours or his?

His.

That is one nasty looking spider.

Yeah, he didn't catch them himself.

He got them a V-bay.

Framed in shit plastic and ready to hang.

What's this one?

Which one?

This one.

Tarantula Hawk.

No, this wind thing.

Yeah, it's a wasp called Tarantula Hawk.

Something he got a bit obsessed with

after watching some documentary on TV.

Why Tarantula?

Because it preys on them.

God see.

Mm.

It stings and paralyzes them

and takes them to its lair.

Where it pants an egg on

it, which burrows into it,

groans feeding off its insides, but

avoiding all the major

organs, so it's still alive.

The Tarantula?

Yeah.

It needs it alive

throughout its pupation.

And then once it's fully grown, it

burrows out and the spider dies.

Dark.

Yeah.

A bit like being pregnant.

What, being eaten from the inside out?

May as well be.

Wouldn't it be nice if once they're

grown, we mothers get to die and they

have to head out and fend for themselves?

Is it really that bad?

I want to answer that.

Nasty sting.

Simon revels in telling dinner guests

what it's like to be stung by one, even

though he's ever actually seen one alive.

What does it feel like?

Well, according to Simon, and therefore

according to Google, it's

three minutes of intense pain.

Whereby you can do absolutely

nothing at all except scream.

Intense.

But once it's over, you're fine.

Or at least better than before.

I kind of understand why

Simon thinks they're cool.

I think they're vile.

Look, I want you to know that this isn't

a decision I've made lightly.

You know, he's lied.

He cheated.

He's bullied me.

He's made me feel like shit throughout

most of our relationship.

I'm fairly sure he treats the other women

he sees just as badly.

The world won't miss him.

Don't have to justify it to me.

He's a nasty piece of

work. You want him dead.

I get it.

This all feels very chummy, doesn't it?

What?

Us.

I sort of feel like we're

getting on like old times.

If you like.

It's funny, I don't think we worked.

You know, we're so different.

Are we?

Yeah.

Yeah, we are.

These yourself?

Do you know that I actually spent most of

my teenage years

quite severely depressed?

Didn't we all?

I genuinely spent the

majority of my days in misery.

Okay.

I just want you to know that.

You're saying it like it's my fault.

You don't think it's your fault?

No, fuck no.

We were all fucked up. It was school. I

mean, come on. Everyone

was horrible to everyone.

Not everyone.

Yes, everyone. I dealt with shit too.

That was part of it. We all had to go

through it. You were

nothing special, Heather.

Come on.

Didn't I say sorry back then?

No.

Okay, fine.

I'm sorry.

Two words 30 years after.

Doesn't quite fill

enough, though, does it?

Well, I don't actually

know what else I can do.

You seem to think that something specific

happened that was me. I

don't know what that was, so...

Come on. What was it I did?

Really?

Yeah.

Other than the normal shit that everyone

did, you know, the name calling and the

teasing and I don't know,

a fucking bit of a tussle.

Other than that shit, what did I do

that's made you so fucking bitter?

Yes, seven.

That's when it all began.

It was just after the pigeon.

We were friends and then

one day suddenly we weren't.

Do you remember why?

Hey, Heather.

Come in.

Go on.

Tell him.

What?

The whole school knows anyway.

What do you mean?

Everybody knows you fancy Toby, but...

Why don't you tell them what you told me?

What? I...

Don't be shy.

Go on.

Tell him about what you do in the shower

when you're thinking about him.

Tell him.

I didn't do anything.

You told me you'd pick

yourself off thinking about him.

I never...

You were such a dirty...

bitch.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

That's what everyone

called me after that.

I didn't come here to be

fucking lectured, right?

If you don't shut the

fuck up, I'm leaving.

And you plan to kill your husband, yeah?

Your plan will be round town as fast as

you can say dirty fucking Heather.

So you shut your mouth.

No, you wouldn't do that.

Because you need the money.

No, not this much I don't.

Fuck you and your

stupid trip down memory lane.

I ain't doing this no more.

Yes, you fucking are!

Because you owe me and you know it.

I owe you nothing.

Is that what you really think?

Do you really believe that?

Don't you remember what came after Toby?

I know what it is you're getting at.

Don't worry sweetheart.

You thought you were

so much better than me.

You had your mom and your

dad at your beck and call.

Anything you wanted.

Schoolwork was easy.

Teach you pleaser.

Neat fucking uniform.

Goody fucking two shoes.

And I've been waiting to wipe that smile

off your face for years.

You didn't know.

You didn't fucking know

what my life had been like.

And you judged me every day.

The day I killed the pigeon, you want to

know what happened that morning?

I watched my dad smack my mom so hard

round the face that her eye popped out.

Clean out of it, socket.

I watched her put it back in while I

called the ambulance.

That's just the kind of

thing he did most days.

And then pretty soon it

wasn't just mum, it was me as well.

So when I used to go around yours and see

what kind of life you had,

at first it was like a

fucking refuge for me.

They were nice and stuff.

I liked being there.

It was all so calm.

But then, I started to realize that the

more time I spent with you

and your perfect sunshine family, the

more my family looked

like a black hole of shit.

And then your face.

When I killed the pigeon.

You knew fuck all.

You were still a child and even though we

were the same age, I

was already an adult.

I can be your friend.

You pissed me off.

You didn't know anything.

And even if I'd explained it to you,

right then and there, you still wouldn't

have understood, would you?

No.

No.

So there you go.

Can I go now?

Because I feel like this has reached its

natural fucking end.

I knew about your dad.

I've seen your bruises.

I also knew because Mum wouldn't let me

go and stay at yours and

I'd wanted to know why.

I didn't have anything I could say to

make that better, but I thought if I

could be your friend

and we could do nice things together,

then that's what I could do.

You knew about my dad.

You're a mum, you.

Yeah.

And she did nothing.

I don't know, do I?

I mean, maybe she did.

Maybe she called social services or maybe

she spoke to your mum.

I was too young.

I was too young.

Yeah, well, so was I.

You must have known that was coming.

Was it?

You spent the weeks

leading up to incomplete terror.

(crying)

Well, that's school for you.

Training ground for life.

We'd been friends, Carla.

I didn't name you when they asked.

I knew you could have been expelled.

Am I supposed to say thank you?

Are we going to finish talking about the plan or can I leave?

No.

Let's finish.

Right, so.

You're getting pissed.

Call me, leave the back door open.

I come round, I boss him, I

take some stuff and leave.

Sound about right?

I guess.

No, I guess.

I want certainty.

This has to go perfectly.

Of course.

I'm not going to be able to do that. And when are we going to

do the rest of the money?

When it's done.

No, I want half up front now.

Not possible.

Make it possible.

It's £65,000.

My bank won't release

that in cash just like that.

Anyway, you've already had ten grand.

That should be enough to keep you going.

It's not about that, you idiot.

You should be taking it out in smaller

amounts gradually so they can't track it.

Really?

Yes, really.

Fuck's sake.

One other thing.

I don't know what the fucker looks like.

You don't seem to keep photos around the

place of each other, do you?

Just dead wasps and shit paintings.

What's he look like?

Heather, photo. This is...

I mean, this.

James.

No.

No, his name's Simon.

James is a pseudonym.

You must know that most men who visit

prostitutes don't want

to use their real name.

Identification aside, I suppose it's also

a means of separating their

deed from their real lives.

That's Simon.

And he's my husband.

As you know, he's been visiting you for a

couple of years now.

Crucially, quite heavily

around seven months ago.

And you agree?

Yeah.

I'm not sure. Your tea is completely

taking effect, yeah?

I feel weird.

Apologies for what I'm about to do.

What are you about to do?

(soft music)

(footsteps)

(door creaking)

(dog barking)

Don't let yourself backwards love,

you'll smack your head.

(laughing)

You've had a crock of little snooze.

Do you feel a bit better now?

I must say it's been wonderful for me.

You know, I've had a

pot around, a tidy up.

I like to imagine this

is what life would be like

with a young baby.

You know, them taking their naps,

will I get on with the housework?

Is that how it is?

Happy scenes of domesticity?

Was it more fraught mayhem

as you tried to keep on top

of everything, including your sanity?

It must be so hard.

It must also be so worth it, you know.

This creature, this

thing, loving you, needing you.

I used to think there was

something wrong with my body.

I remember my mom saying

to me that getting pregnant

involved a whole lot of alchemy.

But looking back on it now,

I know exactly why it wasn't working.

Do you remember the year nine disco?

I wasn't gonna go.

But by then I'd made friends

with the Roosts and that law

and they encouraged me, I guess.

I wasn't gonna go.

I mean, it was less than a

year since you smashed my face

in the store and I'm still

suffering from panic attacks.

So actually, the plan was I

would go for about 20 minutes

and then I'd call mom

and let her know if either

I wanted picking up

straight away or if I was happy,

I'd stay longer,

because she weren't there.

So I said to mom, "Don't

worry, pick me up at the store."

"Don't worry, pick me up at 10."

And I went back to

dancing with my friends.

(dramatic music)

But if you tapped up with the others,

and I immediately wished I was a man.

(dramatic music)

No.

My friends were as

terrified of you as I was.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

I know.

(door creaking)

Open the door, Heather.

We know you're there.

We can wait all night.

(dramatic music)

(door creaking)

There were three of you.

I don't remember the other two.

I was just so nervous. I remember the other two.

I was just along for the ride, I guess.

(dramatic music)

You said, take them off.

(dramatic music)

And I did.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

Open your legs.

Open your legs.

(dramatic music)

I'm very quiet.

And then,

and then,

something went up, and in.

I mean, not smoothly, not just like that.

You had to really feel around.

Get it in there, shove it in.

What was it?

In and out.

(dramatic music)

And then you all stood there,

staring at me in the

strange half light of the toilets.

And there was,

there was laughing.

(laughing)

That's when you walked over to me,

pulled the object out, and whispered

something in my ear.

Good girl.

Do you remember what you said?

It was as if I'd performed well,

as if I'd done exactly as you wanted.

And I felt,

I felt,

you didn't do anything

to me again after that.

It was as if you'd got what you wanted.

What has you got?

I can't believe you didn't think

what you did to me at school was bad.

And you've forgotten?

How could you have forgotten?

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

So,

I was talking about trying for a baby.

I knew that I couldn't

because of that night.

I could feel what I

would describe as a blockage.

Do you get that?

I feel blocked up.

Like whatever it was you shoved inside me

had some kind of fucking

life to it and it's growing.

I'm like a baby, or a tumor.

I've had the scans,

there's nothing there.

But for me, there really is.

And recently, I've been

trying to work out a way

to release it.

So what I'm gonna do

now is remove the gag

from around your mouth.

And this is your opportunity to speak.

If you try to scream or

shout, the gag will be replaced

and you will not get

the opportunity again.

Do you understand?

The nod if you do.

I said, do you understand?

I wanna see a nod.

Show me a fucking nod or

I'll kill you right now.

Good.

There we go.

You have anything to say?

Are you gonna kill me?

Next question.

Are you gonna kill me?

Next question.

I won't help you.

Whatever fucked up

mental problem you have,

you fucking insane ass

psycho, all it will do

is get you into

prison and then you'll have

more fucking problems

than you do already.

So take it from me yet.

Don't fucking kill me.

Fucking kill me, yeah?

Cause like I said, sorry.

And I was.

Like really sorry.

I was fucked up myself.

And I ain't excusing it

cause I know what I did was shit.

But I mean, I wish I could go back

and like not do it or something.

But the thing is that

I had stuff going on.

You know, I had stuff

going on like I said before

and I am.

I'm really, really sorry.

And I, I just don't

know what else to say.

But please don't hurt

me or my baby, please.

Yeah?

Let me go home to my kids.

Don't do this to them.

Please.

Please don't punish the kids.

They're innocent.

Gosh.

Don't hurt me.

This is a bit unexpected.

I can't believe I made

Carla Jackson cry, wow.

Look, you got what you wanted.

Yeah, you made me cry.

I'm so sorry.

I wanna go now, please.

No.

No, that won't be possible.

Why?

Because I'm not done.

You want my child?

You can have it.

You can.

As soon as it's born,

I'll take the money.

It's yours.

I'm not stupid.

I know you've done the sums.

You know.

Is he in on it too?

Who?

Simon.

I heard you talking to him before.

He's got you to do his dirty work.

You can't have a kid together,

so get some slag to have

one for you and steal it.

It's his kid, Heather.

You know it.

I know it.

So if you want the

fucking thing, it's yours.

That would make sense, wouldn't it?

Yeah, that would be neat.

Yes.

No, actually, as simple as that, though.

Why?

Because I can still feel it inside me.

You know, I've been

waiting for it to do something,

like to disobey, to burst.

I've been waiting so fucking long

and nothing I'm doing is working.

Look, look.

When we first met, you

were talking about violence.

This isn't you, Heather.

This isn't you.

This isn't your world.

Why are you doing this?

Huh?

Isn't this sad?

What?

I used to really, really like you.

Like I really thought

we were best friends.

Oh, God.

I wish I could find some

empathy from somewhere.

Because I know that's

what I'm supposed to do.

And I get it.

I'm a hypocrite.

But, um... Yeah.

Yeah, I kind of feel I'm

okay with that, though.

So, here's the thing.

What if I told you...

That Simon was dead already?

What?

Yeah, that I wasn't

actually speaking to anyone

on the phone earlier,

and that I'd actually

hacked him to death in

a bit of a jealous rage,

and he is currently stuffed

in a cupboard under the stairs

until I work out what to do with him.

And what if I also told

you that I was planning

to use this knife to

extract the baby from your stomach

whilst you're still alive so you can

watch me take it from you

and cradle it in my arms

before you bled to death?

So, what do you think?

How do you feel about all of that?

I think you're fucking insane.

There's an impact to

everything a person does.

Like, even the simplest

moment, even a single word

can have an effect.

I just wish we could all

be nicer to each other.

Nice.

You call this nice?

This is nice?

You're insane.

You're in fucking...

Help!

Let me go!

Someone help me!

Help me, someone, let me go!

Help!

Help, someone!

Someone help me!

Someone help me!

Someone help me!

Someone help me!

No, no, no, no!

No! [MUSIC PLAYING]

I've thought many times

about how to solve this

and whatever it is inside me.

I really wanted it to be solved with

something beautiful.

Yeah.

So much of me wanted to

be able to get pregnant

so that I could pour all my

remaining love into a child.

And it would, in some

ways, create a new start.

When I found out what

Simon had been doing

and I realized it was you, I think

something really simple happened.

My body emptied of any

kind of joy, any kind of hope.

And I found out what it was to hate.

And I don't know why so

many people do the things

that they do.

I hope you'll understand.

You see, there are choices we

must make between a kindness

and cruelty.

And unfortunately, there's something

inside me telling me

that kindness won't work, not with you.

Unless I've got that wrong.

Have I got it wrong?

Hmm?

Have I got you wrong?

Interesting you not to run.

I'm hoping you'll understand.

Now, what I'm doing is for all of us.

I don't want to hurt you, Carter.

Come on, Carter.

Let me talk it out. I'm sorry your dad

did what he did to you.

Thank you.

I'm sorry you had

such a shitty upbringing.

Thank you.

I really wish things had been different.

Did you really kill Simon?

I don't understand.

You don't like violence, but you do it.

You think it's wrong, but you do it.

I don't get what it is

I'm supposed to be learning.

You hate revenge, but you're doing it.

Why am I here?

Do you feel better now?

Are you going to kill

me and then feel better?

Are you going to kill me? Are you going to kill me and then feel better?

Are you going to rip my baby

from me and then feel better?

I may have been violent in the past, but

I never planned anything

out or detailed like this.

Even when I was at my worst at school, I

never thought about it this much.

I don't know why I would do it.

I'm not sure that your version or...

reasoned out or justified in

your head is better than mine.

I'm acting on impulse. You planned it.

You've been talking about

this thing inside you growing.

I know what it is.

Everyone has it.

It's fucking disappointment.

It's a massive fucking sense that

everything life was supposed to be is

never going to happen.

And in fact, it's going to be

worse than you ever imagined.

I got it younger than you.

And it's still there.

You're no different to me.

You're no different to anyone.

Now everyone feels like that.

Yeah, everyone does.

No.

No, it's a cycle.

You were hurt, so you hurt others.

You don't get to be

happy for nobody else does.

It's disgusting.

You're doing it too.

Am I?

You don't think what

you're doing is the same?

No.

Then you're more insane

than I thought you were.

No, no, no.

Look, see, I have nothing else now.

I want you to think really carefully

about what your instincts

are telling you right now.

I want you to think about your baby.

I want you to think

about your other children.

I want you to make a decision based on

everything that has happened right back

to when we were kids, right up to now.

I have threatened you with death.

I have told you I want to

take your child from you.

I have told you I've killed Simon, the

father of your unborn child.

I haven't done anything seriously violent

towards you yet, but I have

suggested to you that I will.

I want you to listen to everything

happening in your head

and your heart right now.

Is it to be kindness or violence?

What have you got in your

pocket? Make your choice.

Is it another knife? Make your choice.

What have you got in your pocket,

Heather? I don't trust you.

Show me your hand.

Show me your hand.

Show me your hand.

Heather?

You home?

Good girl.

Heather? Heather? Oh...

(sobbing)

Heather!

Come back!

(sobbing)

(sobbing)

(speaking foreign language)

Ruby, come away.

(speaking foreign language)

No!

No, no, no!

No!

No, no, no!

Heather, it's okay.

It's okay.

No, no, no.

She murdered my wife.

No, no!

Stay back, we know what you've done.

Stay back!

(dramatic music) (dramatic music)

(dramatic music)