All language subtitles for The.Wasp.202 eng

Have you called the guy
about the wasp nest yet?

Simon?

- What?
- The wasp nest.

- Have you called?
-I will.

Still loads of
the bloody things.

I'll have him
come around Monday.

Make sure
I'm around then, shall I?

Club meeting tonight,
important I'm there.

Don't wait up.

Have you picked up
the wine order
for tomorrow night?

Not yet.

I need this dinner
to go well, Heather.

I know.

Probably a fox got it.

I need a rock.

Carla.

What are you going to do?

Put it out of its misery.

There he is.
Big night?

Yeah, I was up
till 2:00 a.m.

My wife is mad
as a fucking hare.

- Hi!
- Oh, hello.

Thanks, Ruby.

What is that?

It's a worry stone.

See?

It's comforting.

What are you worrying about?

Nothing.

Okay. Bye.

You 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.

Oh.

- I was just coming
for more wine.
- Fridge.

Cool.

Someone order more wine?

Fuck!

What are you doing?

What's going on?

See you soon.

And, um, less drama
next time. Okay?

What the fuck?

And tonight?

You had to do that tonight.

I mean,
I needed this to go well,

and you knew that.

Hmm?

Fuck!

I'll call the exterminator
in the morning.

That's £39.40 thanks.

Autumn,
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.

Stop shouting!

I'm coming, leaving now.

Stop fucking shouting!

What the fuck
is going on in here then?

- Can I go out tonight?
- Ask your dad.

- He ain't my dad.
- Don't start.

- He's asleep.
- Well, then.

Oi, I'm going out.

I've got work.

Night then, James.

Fuck.

You haven't changed a bit.

I mean, other than...

- When are you due?
- Couple of months.

Wow.

Thanks.

You have.

- Sorry?
- Changed.

God. I hope so.

So, what do you want then?

Uh...

Well, 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 you've had kids now,
haven't you?

Yeah, four.
Pretty hard work, if I'm honest.

But I love them.

What about you,
you've got kids?

Uh, no.

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

Better hurry up.

I know.

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?

He won't be the one
getting up at night
and changing nappies and such.

He never helped with all that.

He's traditional like that.

I don't mind,
but I do mind, you know.

I must say
you seem pretty together
for a mum of nearly five.

Well I have to be, don't I?

And where do you work now?

Cashier, supermarket.

Oh, yeah?

Whatever, it's fine.
Why did you want to meet?

Um...

Yeah. Look,

I know that
we weren't exactly
mates at school.

Well, 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,

before we got to the stage
where you were with Kerry
and that lot,

I definitely wasn't your friend.

Do you remember before,

like in Year 7,
when we'd hang out after school?

Yes, sort of.

Do you remember that day
after school with the pigeon?

Nope.

Perhaps I should start
at the beginning.

Yeah, that would help.

Um...

Look, do you know
if there's anywhere more private
that we could talk?

I have to be at work
in half an hour, 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 for years.

- I do appreciate that.
- Get on with it.

Alright, so, my husband and I
have been trying
to conceive a baby

for several years now...

Ain't sex working?

Well, no.

Is it him?
It's usually the man.

No, we looked into it
and it appears to be me.

You do know
there's only about two days
when you're really ready, yeah?

Yeah. We've done all the timing,
we've tried everything,
I promise you.

We also tried some IVF,
but it's not working.

Gutting.

I got pregnant first time
every time I tried.

Well, 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?

That's just it.
I wanted to talk
to you about something.

Go on.

This is in
the strictest confidence.

- Please don't tell anyone.
- Go on.

My husband, Simon.

He's been emailing
another woman.

Hold up.

I ain't good at agony aunt shit.
I ain't gonna be much help.

So if that's why
you wanted to meet...

No.

No, it isn't.

I'm not one
for being nice and that.

What's that word?

- Empathising?
- Whatever.

I'm not good at that.

Carla!

It's been going on
for two years.

You've let this carry on
for two years?

- Please!
- Fuck's sake.

In the last week,
he's emailed her to say that
he wants to finally meet.

Why has it taken them
two years to meet?

She said she's overseas.

How do you know?

- The emails.
- Exactly.

- Sorry?
- I'm sorry,

you haven't got
much of a leg to stand on.

You've been reading his emails
for two years.

You should've 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.

But 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.

I probably shouldn't have
let it go on so long,

- but he kept
getting in touch, so...
- I love it.

I'm not proud of myself.

Why not? I would be.

Like you said,
I don't really have
a leg to stand on.

Oh, fuck that. Honeytrap, mate.

You set a honeytrap
and he went for it,
everyone does it.

Everyone?

Yeah, the only way
to make sure

that your bloke
isn't playing the field,

men are like that, see.
You have to catch them out

just to remind them
that you're there sometimes.

Didn't know he was like that.

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.

It's acceptable to some
and not to others.

Not me,
my bloke lays one finger
on us and he's out.

What you going on about?

I'm just saying in my world,
men respect women.

What's this world
you keep on going on about?

- Is it different to mine?
- No, not at all.

- I'm just saying that...
- What?

So far, all you've done
is made me go out of my way
to meet you,

chatted shit about
your stupid husband
then basically insulted me.

- Well, look, I'm sorry...
- Actually, I'm done.

Fuck's sake.

Look, just hear me out, okay?

- The pigeon.
- What?

The pigeon in the field
at the back of the school.

Do you remember?
It was you and me returning

and that pigeon
with a broken wing

What's the pigeon
got to do with your husband?

What you did seemed to come
so naturally to you.

That's £10.15, please.

- I wanted to do this
somewhere quiet.
- Do what?

When do you finish?

Not for another four hours.

- Can you take a break?
- No.

Just tell me what it is.

- Meet me at the loading bay.
- I can't.

Meet me there in five minutes.

No.

I've got £10,000 in this bag
and it's yours.

Find a way to leave.

What?

Till's closed, love,
go to the next one.

What is it, then?
What have I bailed on work for?

I want you to kill Simon.

What?

I've got £10,000 in this bag
and there's another 40
once it's done.

- I...
- He's lied.

He's cheated.

He's hurt, he's emotionally
and physically abused me.

Not just out of my life,
I want him gone completely,

and 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?

£50,000.

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.

It is when you've got nothing.

That would be
none of your business.

He's been gambling again.

- What?
- Your bloke.

What was it you said?

"That stupid cunt
has lost our rent money again."

You should be careful
who you befriend
on social media.

"Logan" is you?

He's fit, isn't he?
And good with words.

Look, I'm sorry.

I know you thought
he could help you out,
but that's why I'm here.

I needed to find out
more about you
before making this plan.

For all I know,
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?

You're pretending
as if you don't need £50,000.

- 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!

75 grand.

Oh, thanks, love.

You'll manage the kids?

- Yeah.
- They're all fed.

We'll be fine, love.

I'll be back late.

Mmm. Going to the supermarket?

No, not this evening,
something else.

- Be careful then.
- Always.

Having fun today?

I think
I am having fun.

I think I am having fun,
I think I am.

Alright there, Carla?

Alright, Tel.

Oh, God. Um...

Why... Why don't you join us?

Not today.
You alright, yeah?

Yeah, can't complain.

No.

- Yeah, later.
- Later.

But I...

Oh, my God!

Let me in.

- What are you doing?
You shocked me.
- Didn't want anyone to see me.

Oh, yeah. Good.

It's basic stuff.

Yeah, of course.

75 grand ain't worth
a jail term for murder.

We need a proper plan.

I ain't never
done this before.

Work it out properly.
No amateur shit.

Yeah, we do it properly.

Which means
it won't be happening quickly.

Okay.

I want to scope out your place,

timings, make sure
nothing can go wrong.

Have you done this before?

I've watched a lot of telly.
I googled it.

I've been researching.

Carefully,
not on my home computer,
don't have one.

I went down the library.

I know all the common
mistakes made.

- I ain't planning to make them.
- What mistakes?

Like fingerprints.

- Wearing gloves, ain't I?
- Oh.

- Very good.
- You have a dishwasher?

I want it on the hottest wash
when you clean it.

- Okay?
- Of course. Yeah.

I came in the back
so I'm not seen.

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

We'll cover my face,
I'll have an alibi.

If it is night-time
then my husband will say
that I'm in bed with him,

which wouldn't be lying,
cos that's what he'll think.

Sleeps so heavy
he wouldn't notice either way.

Alright, okay.

I'll make sure that the weapon
is from somewhere random
and unconnected.

- Then I'll chuck it at the dump.
- Great.

So I was thinking
we make it look like
a botched burglary.

I've done a few
house jobs before,
I know all the stuff needed

to make it look like
I've broken in to steal.

I'll take some stuff,
call it collateral damage.

And then it'll look
more authentic that way.

Or I could make some stuff up

so you don't actually
have to physically
take anything with you.

I want to take some stuff.

- What if you're caught?
- I won't.

I'll sell it. Don't worry

I'd really rather not lose
any of my belongings.

- What?
- I'm paying you already.

I'd rather we found
an alternative.

You want me
to kill your husband

and you're worried about
losing your iPad
and bits of jewellery.

Alright. If we can agree,
some not so important
items, then.

You can lay out the things
you don't mind going.

I can't believe
we're talking about this.

I'm not entirely convinced
that this is the best idea.

- Don't you think
it's a bit cliche?
- A what?

A botched burglary.

It's a bit cliche, no?

- Won'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, like, dispose of him?

In bags?

Where, where would we do that?

And also the drugs
in his system

would be detected
if they find the body.

Cut him up and put him in bags
in the freezer

and slowly thaw him out
and feed him to a dog
or something.

You've got a dog?

Jesus!

If it's eaten,
it can't be discovered.

Fuck.

- What?
- You're fucked.

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.

You can drug him
and cut up his body

but not do the killing yourself.

There's a world of difference
between sedating 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.

Honestly, it's violent.

And beating him to death
isn't violent?

You were the one
about not being
that kind of person,

and here you are coming up
with the worst shit.

That's why I need you.

I can't do 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?
- Yep.

Well, if it's to be me
and not you to do it,

then I want to do it my way.

I think it's a bit risky.

What if he defends himself?
What if he overpowers you?

Now you're worried about that?

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, that's not hard.

Need something harder,
like a poker or a candlestick
or something.

Ms. Carla in the sitting room
with a candlestick.

No, okay.
It's not that.

Hmm...

It'd hurt, but I suppose
not knock him out.

It is a very boring book.

What have we got up here?

This!

Oh, he got that
for some golf tournament

he being the only one
in his category that turned up.

Yeah, perfect!

So, I knock him out,

take some stuff,

then it'll look like
a burglary gone wrong

cos he was drunk
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 neighbours can see.

Okay.

Help. Help.

Okay, quick,
now phone the police

and report this horrible,
tragic crime.

Okay.

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 loath
to lose too many
of my belongings.

You've gotta let that go.

I may be 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 need 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 a complete innocent.

Alright.

Look, I know you remember me
as being a bit of a loser,

I have lived a life since then.

I've done stuff.

- I'm not squeaky clean.
- I'll take your word for it.

Well...

It still works, doesn't it?

What does?

It's that thing that you do.
It's your...

Your face,
your whole demeanour,

- it 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
because you weren't that big.

We were pretty much
the same height,

but I would never have tried
to stand up to you. Never.

It's the things you'd say.

I don't even remember
talking to you after Year 8.

So whatever you think I did
was probably someone else.

Yeah, probably.
It's all in the past now,
anyway, isn't it?

Yes. Can we get on
with this now, please?

Yeah.

When do you want it done?

I could get everything ready
in a couple of weeks.

- Gosh, two weeks?
- I can't do any sooner.

No, no, of course not.
I mean, two weeks
is so imminent.

I just assumed
you'd want to wait until...

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 half joking,
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.

And if that means
I'm imprisoned, too,
then so be it.

I won't go down without you.

Well done.

- What?
- Nice speech.

- Fuck off.
- I mean it.

You've got the makings
of a real hard nut.

And you've got the makings
of a patronising bitch.

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 off eBay.

Framed in shit plastic
and ready to hang.

- What's this one?
- Which one?

- This one.
- Tarantula hawk.

No, this winged 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.

- Gutsy.
- Mmm.

It stings and paralyzes them

and takes them to its lair

where it plants an egg on it,
which burrows into it

and grows 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.

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 won't answer that.

Nasty sting.

Simon revels in telling
dinner guests what it's like
to be stung by one,

even though he's never
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.

I want you to know that
this isn't an easy decision.

You know,
he's lied and 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 didn't think we would.

We're so different.

Are we?

Yes.

Yeah, we are.

Please 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.

Come on, everyone
was horrible to everyone.

- Not everyone.
- Yes, everyone.

I dealt with shit too.

It was part of it.
We all had to go through it,

you're nothing special, Heather.

Come on.

Didn't I say sorry back then?

No.

Okay, fine.

I'm sorry.

Hmm.

Two words, 30 years after.

Doesn't quite feel enough,
though, does it?

Well, I don't actually know
what else I can do.

You seem to think
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.

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?

Year 7.

That's where 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 here.

There, there.

Go on, tell them.

- What?
- The whole school knows anyway.

What do you mean?

Everybody knows
you fancied Toby, but...

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

- But I...
- Don't be shy.

Go on.

Tell 'em what you do
in the shower

- when you're
thinking about him.
- Uh...

Tell 'em.

I don't do anything.

You told me
you frig yourself off
thinking about him.

I... I never.

You are such a dirty bitch.

Dirty Heather.

- Dirty Heather.
-...Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

Dirty Heather.

That's what everyone
called me after that.

I didn't come here
to be fucking lectured.

If you don't shut the fuck up,
I'm leaving.

And your plan
to kill your husband, yeah?

Your plan will be around town
as fast as you can say,
"Dirty-fucking-Heather."

- So, you shut your mouth.
- No, you wouldn't do that.

You need the money.

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!

Cos 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 mum and your dad
at your beck and call,

anything you wanted.

Schoolwork was easy.
Teacher pleaser.

Neat fucking uniform,
goody fucking two shoes.

And I'd 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,

know what happened that morning?

I watched my dad smack my mum
so hard around the face

that her eye popped out,
clean out of its 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 realise

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 couldn't 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, right?

- No.
- No. So, there you go.

Can I go now?

Cos I feel like
this has reached
its natural fucking end.

I knew about your dad.

And seen your bruises.

I also knew cos 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?

Your mum knew?

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
it was coming.

Of course I did.

And spent the weeks
leading up to it
in complete terror.

Wake up now, girl.

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've 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 get him pissed,

call me,
leave the back door open,

I come round, I bosh him,

I take some stuff and leave.
Sound about right?

- I guess.
- No "I guess."

I want certainty,
this has to go perfectly.

Well, of course.

When are we doing
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 10 grand,

it 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.
- What?

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,

and crucially, quite heavily
around seven months ago.

- Don't you agree?
- Yeah.

I'm not sure your tea
has completely taken effect yet.

I feel weird.

Apologies for what
I'm about to do.

What are you
about to do?

Don't knock yourself
backwards, love,
you'll smack your head.

You've had
a proper little snooze.

- Do you feel a bit better now?
- Mmm!

I must say,
it's been wonderful for me.

You know, I've had
a potter 'round, a tidy-up.

I like to imagine this is what
life would be like with
a young baby.

You know, them taking
their naps while I get on
with the housework.

Is that how it is?

Happy scenes of domesticity?

Or is it more fraught mayhem
as you try to keep
on top of all,

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 mum saying to me

that getting pregnant
involved a whole lot of alchemy.

But looking back on it now, I...

I know exactly why
it wasn't working.

Do you remember
the Year 9 disco?

I wasn't gonna go,

but by then I'd made friends
with Ruth and that lot

and they encouraged me,
I guess.

I wasn't gonna go.

It was less than a year

since you smashed my face
in the storeroom,

and I was still suffering
from panic attacks.

So, actually, the plan was
I would go for about 20 minutes

and then I'd call mum
and let her know

if either I wanted
picking up straightaway,

or if I was happy,
I'd stay longer.

Because you weren't there.

So, I said to Mum, "Don't worry.
Pick me up at 10:00."

Then I went back to dancing
with my friends.

But then
you turned up with the others.

And I immediately wished
I wasn't there.

- I want to go home.
- Why?

No.

My friends were
as terrified of you as I was.

Don't let no one in.

Let's go.

Open the door, Heather.

We know you're there.

We can wait all night.

There were three of you.

I don't remember
the other two.

They were just along
for the ride, I guess.

You said,

"Take them off."

And I did.

Open your legs.

Open your legs.

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 up?

And then you all stood there

staring at me in the strange
half-light of the toilets.

And there was...

There was 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 had you got?

I can't believe you didn't think
what you did to me at school
was bad.

Had you forgotten?

How could you
have forgotten?

Hey, Simon.

I just wanted to know
what time you'd be home.

Yeah, no, that's fine.

Yeah, I just, um...

Could you just text me
when you're on your way, please?

Thanks.

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.

Growing like a baby,
or a tumour.

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 going to 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 won't get
the opportunity again.

Do you understand?
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.

Here we go.

Do you have anything to say?

- Are you going to kill me?
- Next question.

It won't help you

with whatever fucked-up
mental problem you have,

you fucking insane-ass psycho.

All it will do
is get you into prison,

you'll have more issues
than you do already.

So, take it from me,
don't kill me.

Don't fucking kill me! Yeah?

Cos I said sorry,

and I was, like, really sorry.

But I was fucked up myself,

and I ain't excusing it
because I know
what I did was shit.

But I mean,
I wish I could go back
and 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... 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've made
Carla Jackson cry. Wow.

Look, you got what you wanted.
Yeah?

Look, you made me cry,
I've said sorry,

I want to 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!

Not 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 dissipate, 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...

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 I'm...

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?

That I wasn't really
speaking to anyone
on the phone earlier

and that I'd actually
hacked him to death

in a little jealous rage.

And he is currently
stuffed in a cupboard
under the stairs

till 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 insane.

There's an impact
to everything a person does.

Like, even the simplest moment,
even a single word
can have an effect.

I...

I just wish we could
all be nicer to each other...

Nice? You call this nice?
This is nice?

You're insane!

You're fucking...
Help! Let me go!

Somebody, help me!
Someone, let me go!

Help! Help, someone!

Someone, help me!

Someone let me go!
Help!

Someone, help me!
Someone, help...

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.

You know.

So much of me
wanted to be able
to get pregnant,

so that I could pour
all my remaining love
into a child.

And that would,
in some ways,
create a new start.

But when I found out
what Simon had been doing,

and I realised 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.

I now 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 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?

I'm trusting you not to run.

I'm hoping you'll understand

that what I'm doing

is for all of us.

I don't want to hurt you, Carla!

You may as well
come back down.

Come on, Carla,
let's 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 rip my baby
from me and then feel better?

I may have been violent
in the past,

but I never planned anything out
all 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 mean, we're animals, right?
My instincts kick in.

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

All reasoned out,
all 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 gonna happen.

And, in fact, it's gonna 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.

Not everyone feels like that.

- Yeah, everyone does.
- No.

No, it's a cycle.

You know, you were hurt,
so you hurt others.

You don't get to be happy,
so nobody else does.
It's disgusting.

- You're doing it, too.
- Am I?

You don't think
your action is the same?

No.

Then you're more insane
than I thought.

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.

Want you to think
about your baby.

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 that another knife?
- Make your choice.

What have you got
in your pocket?
I don't trust you.

Show me your hand.

Show me your hand.

Show... Show me...

Heather?

You home?

Good girl.

Heather?

Heather? Hey, hey, hey, hey...

Baby, what happened?

It's okay, it's okay.

Heather, Heather. Heather?

Heather!

Come back!

What have you done?

Ruby.

Come away.

- Oh, my...
- No, no, no, no.

- Ruby...
- No.

Ruby, what are you doing?

No!

No, no!
No! No, no, no!

It's okay, just go.

No, no. She...
She murdered my wife.

No, no, stay back! We know
what you've done! Stay back!