All language subtitles for London.Fields.2018.720p.BluRay.x264-PSYCHD

Subtitles by explosiveskull
Sync by GoldenBeard

This is a true story,

but I can't believe
it's really happening.

It's a murder story, too.

I can't believe my luck.

And a love story,
of all strange things.

I know the murderer.

I know the murderee.

I know the time.

I know the place.

I know the motive,
and I know the means.

I know who will be the foil,
the fool, and the poor foal.

I couldn't stop them
even if I wanted to.

You.

Always you.

You can't stop people
once they start.

Please...

You can't stop people
once they start creating.

It all started three weeks ago

when I flew in on
a red-eye from New York.

Nobody in their right mind
wants to come

to London right now.

They're afraid
the crisis is going

to reach a conclusion,

that everything's going
to fall into chaos.

I thought I would be able
to find something

to write about.

See, I write fiction,
but my novels, um...

aren't really fiction.

You have arrived
at your destination.

You know, uh,
not many people rushin' in

to merry ol' London town
these days.

I answered
a personal ad

in The New York Review
of Books.

The celebrated writer
Mark Asprey

was offering up his apartment
for a swap.

He would have been
overwhelmed with responses

if it weren't for the crisis.

Instead, poor Mark ended up

with my shithole
in Hell's Kitchen.

Well, fuck me.

And I got the keys

to his inspiring
three-bedroom flat

in the heart of London.

Mr. Samson Young.

Mr. Mark Asprey here.

Checking in to see
if you survived

your plane trip, mate.

Make yourself at home.

Do feel free, by the way,
to touch everything.

Everything in that place
has inspired a book

in some way,
or a million sales at least.

And I hope it does that
for you. I really do.

I-I'm sorry
it's not all finished.

You know, I'm refurbishing
the building

but this bloody
panic everywhere,

you just can't get
all the stuff you need

no matter how much money
you throw at the problem.

I left a copy of my
third novel on the desk.

Crossbone Waters.

It never hurts
to reread the classics

for a spot of inspiration.

Your place is just phenomenal.

I had no idea
this would be so...

wonderfully diminished.

As you know,
my latest character

lives in Hell's Kitchen,

and I think I might
make him even poorer.

It's just going
to be delicious,

and I can't thank you enough.

Oh, I just hope
you enjoy yourself.

Hey, tiger.

Oh, yes.

I do hope you get a chance
to enjoy the mirrors.

I do.

Anyway, see you, mate.

If London is a pub
and you want the whole story,

well, where do you go?

You go to a London pub.

Oi!

Here he is. Samson Young.

My famous American friend.

- Now, here we got my boy Thelonius, Dean...
- Yeah, man.

...Zbig, Zbig 2,
Big Dred,

- Shakespeare...
- Shakespeare.

...Norvis, Fucker,

Bogdan, Juniper...

Yeah, that's Pepsi,
Pongo, and God.

And my mate, Guy Clinch.

Nobility, he is.

Yeah, he's like cousin
to the King

or Queen or something.

He had a bit of trouble
when he first come

into the Black Cross,

but I introduced him
to some faces

and now he's got
a face all on his own.

Guy Clinch, Samson Young.

- Pleasure to meet you, Samson.
- Sam's fine.

You know, Sam here
is newly arrived.

American. Writer.

Huh?

Well, fuck me.

- You all right, mon?
- Yeah, loan sharks.

Loan sharks?

Keith, you really
shouldn't be doing that.

What? Eh? Every time
I borrowed money

from you, I paid you back,
didn't I?

Well, no. You've never
actually paid me back.

Pleasure to meet you, Sam.

Yeah, you too.

Yeah, listen. You don't
loan money, do you, Sam, huh?

No, I'm just a broke writer.

Huh. Why should
they own me, right?

Yeah.

But I'm behind on me rent.

Two fucking weeks.

Listen, I appreciate
your trustworthy instincts.

Yeah, right.

I had to borrow a pinch

from me old loan shark,

Kirk Stockist.

Trouble was,
I already owed a ton

for me darts training
and other expenses.

I recognize the stench
but not the face.

So then I had to
borrow money from Ashley Royal

to pay the vig
on Kirk's loan.

You've got a week.

Then you suffer.

Woulda been fine
had it not have been

for an unwise investment.

So now I gotta borrow money

from me old mate
Chick Purchase.

Trouble was, there's a bit
of bad blood between us.

You know something?

I'm actually
fucking ecstatic

to loan you
as much as I can.

So that I can fuck you up
as hard as I can

when you don't pay.

Don't tickle me with that.

And, love...

it will not be
over quickly.

And I promise,

you will not enjoy it.

So, my advice to you...

is to celebrate
while you can...

go and drop a bit
on a bird, eh?

Now, all three
require payment,

immediate and in full.

Take care, love.

You don't play darts,
do you, sir?

I'll give you lessons
if you like.

Darts...

is destiny.

My God.

Do you have any
Gauloises cigarettes?

We don't sell
French fags here, darling.

Carlyle!

Come here.

Right.

Now.

Go and get this lady

her French snouts, will ya?

Go on. Fuck off.

Poor grieving girl, eh?

Is the world
against everything?

I've lived down the road
for over a year now,

and this is the first time
I've been in here.

Always wondered
what it was like.

Just never had the courage.

I suppose this is...

by way of having been
at a wake?

Yeah. Weren't family,
was he?

Not anyone I knew very well.

Still. Does you credit.

No, shows respect,
don't it?

Here we are
at the event horizon

of a black hole.

Anything, including
matter and photons,

that pass this boundary
are unable to escape.

A black veil.

It's ironic
how becoming it is.

One never gets enough
opportunity to wear one.

People should die
more often.

What's your name,
sweetheart?

Nicola Six.

What? Sex? Huh.

It's S-I-X.

Fuck off.

Thank you.

Now, huh.

An honor...

to service you.

You all right?

Sorry.

Thank you.

I must be leaving now.

You've been very kind.

Keith...

You're...
You're not, are you?

A girl like that?

A girl like what?

- Well...
- Mate, she's dreaming of it.

Yeah, she's begging for it.

She's just been
to a funeral, Keith.

Well, then
she's praying for it.

Life fucking goes on,
don't it, eh?

With Keith and Guy,

I had two promising
story characters.

Two men forming
a social contrast.

But none of this would have
started without the girl.

There was no book
without the girl.

You know, they say
the first thing that will go

with the hot sun
will be the flowers.

Won't be any more flowers.

Now, I see
a girl like you.

You know, bit of a beauty.

Head in the clouds, as such.

Now, me? I'm Handy Andy.

You know, I'm Mr. Fixit.

So what's your
phone number, Nick?

Of all things, she lives
in my building.

Remarkable.

The pain kit
from Dr. Slizzard

arrived in good time.

Like a box of candy.

Why can't I do it?

Why can't I just write?

I write. I'm a writer.

From the moment
Nicola's thoughts began

to be consecutive,

she knew two strange things.

I've always known
what was going to happen next.

The second was that
she must never tell anyone

about the first.

Hers was a specific kind
of fortune telling.

Nicola saw the death
of many, many things.

She knew her young friend
Dominique

would fall to her death.

How painful. I was
prepared for Mom and Dad.

She knew her parents
would die in a plane crash.

They both died,
together,

as I always knew they would.

So why love anyone?

I met the surviving
pilot and slept with him.

If the crash didn't
kill him, love would.

She saw the circles
of concentric devastation

with London like a bull's-eye
in the center of the board.

She knew that was coming.

Nicola knew when
her own story ended, too.

Some minutes after midnight...

on her 30th birthday.

Guy Fawkes Day.

Her final entry.

"In the Black Cross Pub."

I found my murderer.

"I found my murderer."

I met him.

"Today."

- Yes?
- Oh, hello.

Uh, my name
is Samson Young.

I live downstairs.

Um...

Are you gonna sit down?

Thank you.

Okay.

So I, uh,
I read everything.

Look...

I'm a writer.

Anything I might know?

I seriously doubt it.

Listen. I believe
your premonitions.

I believe you see
your death.

So who's going to kill you?

I don't know.

I just know
he was there yesterday.

I've always wanted to write
a murder novel, but I...

was never close
enough to it. I...

Um... I-I believe
I would have to be there,

recording it.

Would you let me do that?

I think you could be
my masterpiece.

Yes.

I know what you're thinking.

It's a gift.

And I'm going to take it.

Regardless.

She was a great character.

A fascinating creature.

Compelling.

Self-destructive.

I had the makings

of a really snappy
little thriller.

She entered the Black Cross.

She entered the pub
and its murk.

She lifted her veil
with both hands like a bride.

Surveyed the main actors
of the scene,

and immediately
she knew, with pain,

within intense recognition,

that she had found him,
her murderer.

I just had a deja vu.

Nicola awoke
and heard the rain

and went back to sleep again.

Or she tried.

I want more

of that Mark Asprey.

That's what I want more of.

Not to be greedy, my love,

but you cannot expect
a girl to go gentle

into that good night
after having received

such an otherworldly fucking.

Come in.

Mr. Handy Andy.

Are you famous?

Everyone has their dreams.

You want a drink
or something?

No, not for me, darling.

Work before pleasure, innit?

But you're already quite drunk,
aren't you, Keith?

Fuck me.

Keith.
"Fuck me." Belches.

Ow!

Fuck it!

Me fucking darts thumb.

Look.

Look, I know the knockers
take the piss

out of the sport
these days.

But I happen to have
reached the last 32

in the Duoshare Sparrow Masters.

You know, one more win
and Keith Talent here

will be televised.

- You're dripping blood.
- Eh? Oh.

Let me see.

Are you married?

No.

Well, me wife thinks she is.

How about children?

Oh, no. No, no, no.

God, no.

Yeah, a little girl we got.

Princess. Lovely, she is.

What about you, eh?

You know what
babies do, Keith, don't you?

They ruin your figure.

And one other thing.

The man you
introduced me to

the other day
at the Black Cross,

the posh one?

Oh, yeah.

Guy Clinch?

I'd like to meet him.

You could arrange that,
couldn't you?

Have Guy call.

And do it now, please.

Is it gonna be Keith?

Well, he's kind of
an animal presence,

wouldn't you say?

I bet he's an animal in bed.

But animals can be trained.

Can't they?

Yes, ma'am.

You know, I went round that Nicky's house.
You know, Nicola.

The one in the veil
in the Black Cross.

Right.

Now, I thought she
might want seeing to.

What, you mean her flat?

Don't be daft.

Here.

No, she's a funny one,
that one.

One minute she's
coming on dead tasty.

And then the next minute,
she's Lady Muck.

So, did, uh...

Did anything happen?

Nah. Fuck all, really.

I took my leave,
and she's asking about you.

The...

- About me?
- Yeah.

Wants you to phone her.

How, uh...

How exactly does she
require my help?

Don't ask me, mate.

Maybe she likes her own sort.

I'm going to take a nap.

- Hello.
- Do you mind?

Oh, yes.

Smashing wife.

Smashing wife.

Find out
how much Keith owes...

and take care of it.

You know, I told Keith
to have Guy call me.

I'm sure he will.

Keith. I couldn't ask you
a favor, could I?

To look after the child
for 20 minutes. It's my shift.

Of course I can. Ah.

Oh, no. I love
the little one.

What you doing?

You having a little war
on words, are you?

I got a book here
you might like.

Have a look at this book.

Yeah, nice picture book.

Kelly, that is.

She's a vegetarian.

Oh, you want some
of that? Here, go on.

That's it.
Breathe it right down.

Down like a man.

You know, Guy seemed
so sweet and gentle.

You know, he might be
capable of loving me.

It's Guy Clinch.
Is Nicola Six there, please?

Speaking.

I'm not disturbing you
at all, am I?

No, no, not at all.
I-I'd like your help.

If it wouldn't be too much
out of... out of your way.

Do you think we could meet?

She's setting up the
oldest conflict in the world.

Two men. One woman.

Someone dies.

Guy Clinch.

When he woke up in the morning,
there was no life.

So life could loom up
on him at any moment.

So, just when things were
starting to finally open up

between my parents and I...

they died
in a plane crash.

Oh, my God.
I'm sorry, Nicola.

Thank you.

That's when I joined
the convent.

They sent me
to work in India

where I, uh, worked
in an orphanage there.

Wow.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Hmm.

I take it you're married?

Yes. Yeah.
Nine years now.

You must be a romantic.

- Like me.
- Funny though...

Romantic life never
quite matches up...

somehow.

Still, one must
never give up hope.

There was something
I wanted to ask you.

Yeah, of course.

So when I was
in the orphanage,

I was friends with
a little Burmese girl.

She was a few years
younger than me.

We were like sisters.

And I promised her one day
we would live together.

That I'd get her out.

But when I returned, I found
out that she'd been adopted

by a Saudi businessman.

Right.

She had his son.

God.

And when he washed
his hands of her,

she was repatriated
back to Burma.

Now she's not even
allowed back into England.

It's just such a mess.

Yeah.

I just figured you were
the sort of person

who might know someone.

Higher up.

Of course. Yeah, yeah.
I can... I can...

I can definitely try.

Her name is Enola Gay.

And her son
is simply known as

Little Boy.

Right.

Sorry, er...

Eno-Enola Gay, is it?

That's it. Nothing else.
Little Boy.

Yeah.

All I know for sure
is the last scene.

The car, the car tool,

the murderer waiting
in his car.

The murderee
walking towards him.

But I don't know
how to get

to the dead-end street.

Was that the car?

Guy is just so sweet.

So, it's gonna be Guy.

Well, it's his car,

and he's falling in love.

It normally ends
very badly with me.

Guy Clinch was a good guy.

Or a nice one, anyway.

He worked
for the family business,

trying to keep tabs
on the proliferating hydra

of Clinch money.

Guy wanted for nothing
and lacked everything.

Guy had money, health,
handsomeness,

and he was lifeless.

Nice joint
you got here. Yeah.

For years, he'd been trying
to have a child

with his wife Hope.

Excuse me.

They used to worry
about the kind of world

they were bringing
their child into.

But when their prayers
were answered,

they worried
about what kind of child

they were bringing
into the world.

Guy always thought it was
life he was looking for.

But it must have been death.

Keith, I've been waiting
for you all morning.

Would you take Kim
for a bit, please?

Nah, love, fuck off.

Look, I'm fucking busy,
all right?

I got me darts class to teach.

She's got the hiccups,
and I...

I-I'm feeling a bit dizzy.

Why, what's the matter
with you?

- Eh?
- Please.

Here, come here.

Eh? Come here, you.

I'm a dart.
What kind of dart am I?

You're the finisher.

Yeah, that's right.

What does a finishing dart do?

Bullseye.

You're a little angel,
you are.

Come on.

Premium shot, Samson.

Imagine the dart's
like a pen.

Write a love letter
to treble 13.

Sealed with a kiss.

Guy Fawkes Day's
coming up, Keith.

Here, darling.

You know what happened
to him, right?

No?

Oh.

Then today is your lucky day.

'Cause I'm like
a fucking historian, ain't I?

Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi.

He was hanged,
drawn, and quartered.

And I know this might
sound unpleasant.

But I might just have
to fucking Guy Fawkes you.

I thought he was burned.

If they burned him...

he was already dead,
weren't he?

Know what I mean?

Ashes to ashes, like,
dust to dust.

What?

It's fucking dirt
and worms, mate.

It's fucking dirt
and worms.

Ooh.

One more thing.

I bought out
all your debts.

So, no-one left
to borrow from.

She's lovely.

The little girl.

I decided to send
the first three chapters

to my long-time publisher,
Missy Harter.

I knew Missy.
It was right up her alley.

Callous and sensational.

She wouldn't be able
to resist.

The normal accepted laws
of writing

are working backwards.

What started out
as reality fiction

is becoming more and more
unvarnished reality.

I have to keep reminding
myself that this is a story.

I'm writing a story.

If I can just get
the balance right.

501 up.

It's the Texas
Hold'em of darts.

The rules are pretty simple.

You have to score
exactly 501 points.

You go over, you bust.

Play the game!

That's about it.

Come on.

The Black Cross Pub!
Tossing them out one by one!

Excuse me.

Not afraid?

Nicola used to think that

she might be saved by love.

But it never happened.

She could make
a man feel he was,

at last, really living.

She could attract it.

She could bring love in.

- Nicola.
- Couldn't send love out.

Coming.

Do you know the origin
of the word "bikini," Keith?

You what?

Bikini, it's from the
Bikini Atoll in the Pacific,

where the US conducted
atomic bomb tests.

I know all about
your money trouble, Keith.

And very soon...

I'm gonna give you
a lot of money.

Oh, I wanna believe
that you will.

Guy is supporting
a foreigner and her son

in their efforts
to escape Burma.

Very oppressed people.

Poor, unfortunate, really.

And you, Keith, can get 30,000
just for setting things up.

Nicola, I have some, er,
some rather bad news.

I thought that... Hello?

It's coming.

This is just a little...

to start you off.

Oh, Nicky.

Do you know
what that looks like?

A gun barrel in a holster?

Exactly.

You can have the money
if you don't touch.

The qualities
of patience and coolness

that I imagine you apply
to your darts, Keith...

apply to me.

Nicola?

You'll find with me...

when it rains, it pours.

And when it pours...

I get rather wet.

Take this.

And this. You don't have
to do anything nasty

with it, Keith. Just props.

For Guy.

Now, leave my flat.

Hello, mate.

Hello, Keith.

Nicola?

Sorry. I was just changing.

Hello.

It's lovely to see you.

Look, er...

Some bad news.
I made some calls. Um...

But I didn't come up
with anything in Burma.

I'm sorry.

I...

I'm not gonna stop trying.
I-I haven't given up.

Well, yet.

Seems a bit stupid now,
but I...

I bought you a gift. Er...

It's hardly a consolation prize,
but I thought it'd be...

something to cheer you up.
It's a...

It's a globe.

Obviously.

There's Burma.

Would you do me a favor?

Yes, of course.

Would you please take these
to a jewelry store

for me and sell them?

I'm sure they'll
just take advantage of me

if I try to do it myself.

They were my grandmother's.

I don't know
how much they're worth

but I think
it should be enough

to get me a plane ticket.

It's just that I got a call from
my Foreign Office friend yesterday,

and he's going to come
into London to talk to me.

He's found Enola
and Little Boy,

but there are warlords

and all sorts
of complications,

and they need to be paid
in order to get out and...

I don't know what else to do.

It's all right,
it's all right.

I think I should come
with you, all right?

It'll be safer.

I promised my friend
I would be alone.

Well, in that case,

I'll come
but I'll keep at a distance.

All right?

Look.

I'm gonna take care
of everything.

Everything from here on in.

You really are a good person.

Yeah.

Let's put these back
where they belong, shall we?

Oh, I'm sorry.

- I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry.

Mi Mi's mother's very sick

and we have to go
to Hong Kong.

She would very much like
to clean for you

when we get back.

Don't worry.

I understand completely.

Here's a check.

I'm sorry
the last one bounced.

Looks trustworthy.

What was his, er...
What was his estimate?

60,000.

60,000?

Right.

Can you find out whether
it's in pounds or dollars

or kyat, I think.

I'm so sorry to bring you
into all of this.

No, no, it's...

It's gratifying for me
to help, do you understand?

We're gonna save them.

Enola and her Little Boy.

It's pounds.

Right.

Of course.

I better get back to him.

Things are the way they are.

What am I supposed to do,
try and stop it?

Exactly. That's what
you should do.

Stop it and live.

Everyone has
their dreams, don't they?

People kill
for a lot of reasons.

My murderer is not gonna be

a standard issue thrill kill.

Pull it off and live.

It's fixed.

If you know
you're going to die,

why don't you just skip town?

That wouldn't stop it.

It wouldn't change anything.

I'm just playing my part.
Beginners' luck.

I always knew I'd be killed
over an affair of the heart.

Passion, love... You know.

You shouldn't kiss me.

Fine.

Nicola
purposely showed up late

to her dinner with Keith.

Akbar!

Get her a fucking menu,
will you?

Double gin and tonic, please.

"I'm on
a special diet."

No food.

Is there a good reason
why you're late?

Did you dress up for me?

You look so handsome.

You remind me of the king
of Saudi Arabia.

"I once slept,"
she said, "experimentally,

with the king
of Saudi Arabia."

He had his men search
the entire world

for the most beautiful
women alive.

People do want value
for their money.

Don't they, Keith?

Yeah, absolutely.

Absolutely they do.

The thing
about the king was...

"The king never slept
with the same..."

...same woman twice.

When I was brought
to his room,

he laid out two lines

of the finest cocaine.

When I was brought
to his room,

he laid out
the most miraculous panties.

"Knickers."

Knickers.

"Worth a fortune."

...fortune.

They were
absolutely weightless.

Six weeks later,
there was a revolution,

and the king was dead
within a year.

And soon, Keith,
you'll be king, too.

If London is a spider web,

maybe I'm the fly.

Did you write that?

In my book?

Mmm-hmm.

To tell you the truth,
I feel pretty good

about my writing right now.

I think I'm doing
the best work of my life.

I picked up your book.

Memoirs of a Listener.

Yeah, let's change the subject.
How about that?

I'm not one of your
one-dimensional characters, Sam.

You've got to get that.

I'm pretty worried
that the critics

are gonna call you
a male fantasy figure.

I know your secret.

You do?

And what is it?

I'll race you
to the finish line.

Correction.

You go first, I go second.

Remember, I have to write it.

I'm not in love with her.

Something intertwines us,
but it isn't love.

With Nicola,
it's the other thing.

It's death.

There's no language for pain

except bad language.

The single pill in the bottle.

That's for when the living
will envy the dead.

That's for the most
painful condition of all.

Life.

Hello, mate. Mark.

Um... I finished
your book, and er,

I've got to say
I so admire your nerve.

The endless contortions
of your prose,

so brave.

You know, an autobiography
is, uh, most of the time,

just success stories.

For a man to take up his pen
and tell a story

of continual failure.
Just so bloody brave.

Sales, success, and money
and acclaim,

they're not the measure
of an artist.

No, really, well done, mate.

- Hello?
- Guy?

I'm sorry
but I can't see you any more.

It's just too hard for me.

I just don't trust myself
when I'm with you.

- This has to be goodbye.
- Nicola, you can't.

You can't. It's not fair.

I could never accept
your money.

And please, don't worry
about my friends in need.

Nicola, stop it.

All right? Stop it. You have to...
you have to let me help you.

- Sorry. Goodbye.
- Nicola.

- Keith.
- I'm desperate.

Where's the fucking money...

in that?

Are you doing me, young lady?

Huh?

Are you having me for a cunt?

'Cause I'm not having that.

- Keith.
- I'm not having that.

The money is coming.
Trust me.

I'm very good at this.

Go and see Guy.

Tell him this.

Tell him I'm pale and drawn
and pining away.

And that I sit, staring
at the beautiful globe,

crying, and that
I'm selling off all my things.

Get out.

Hello, Keith.

Now, listen, mate,
I just popped round Nicola's,

and between you and me,
it don't look too shrewd, mate.

Yeah, says to me,
"Don't fix this.

"Don't fix that.
It's not important.

What's the point?
There's no point."

Says she's leaving London.

Yeah. Goin' to some place
with poppies

and drug lords or something.

Y-Y-You don't think
she's gonna do that...

All this, mate,
it's too much.

I've never seen her so down.

You know?
She just sits there,

spinning that little
globe thing.

As though she's been having
a bit of a cry.

I'm worried she might
do herself an injury.

I had a chill
run through me today.

It's the feeling of life
leaving me.

My breath was shallow,

and my heartbeat
was really faint.

I guess I'm quitting,
whether I like it or not.

But goddammit, I can't go yet.

I still don't know
who you are.

But you know me.

It's in my diaries.

I know you're beautiful.

And that the entire world
falls into you...

and does anything you want.

I mean, look at me.

And look at you.

I have no idea what it's like.

I can't imagine it.

You just don't understand.

Look at me.

Really?

Look at me.

No, it...

As you don't have
any living family member

to advise you,
I can't allow you to do this.

- What's this?
- Nothing.

You're leaving tomorrow?

- I can't let you do that.
- I'm sorry, Guy.

It's a bloody good thing
you did, all right,

because I'm
absolutely furious.

You have to take
this money, all right?

You have to.

- I couldn't.
- You have to.

I couldn't.

As a little girl,
Nicola did have

a best friend named Enola Gay.

They were inseparable.

Enola shared in all
of Nicola's schemes

in domestic terrorism.

But the thing about Enola was

she came from inside the head
of Nicola Six.

It's too much for me.

It's too much for me.

She didn't exist,
so she couldn't die.

Nicola.

Please stop.

Stop it.

Stop it.

You know it has to.

It has to happen

at least once.

You see, I can't.

I can.

Be still.

Be still.

Close your eyes.

How do you feel
about me?

Truthfully.

The truth is
you're a bad dream.

I keep thinking I'll wake up
and you'll disappear.

You're so alone, Sam.

Why am I
the only person with you?

People don't like
to see life fading away.

It's a once in a lifetime...

Yes?

- Good afternoon. I'm your new social worker.
- Where's Mrs. Ovens?

Is your husband
at home at the moment?

Yes. He's not been
well though. He's...

I'm sure you're aware

of the dangers
of passive smoking?

I've been passively
smoking for years

and it hasn't
done me any harm.

- I'm afraid I might have to seek an order.
- Order?

What?

I know we haven't got what
some do, but we are trying.

Yeah, you tell her, Kath.

- You come in here...
- You haven't got any money.

Certainly not
enough for proper care.

There is nothing I wouldn't do
for my daughter!

My God.
Do you abuse your daughter?

And I can't say I like
the look of that dog.

Oi! No-one talks
about my dog like that!

You fuck off out of it!

What kind of care
do you give people

from an office?

Get out, you evil witch!

- Get the fuck out!
- Good day.

You don't let her touch you.

You are who you are.
All right?

You know I'm gonna
fucking kill you, don't you?

Shall we say 8:00?

This is London.
There are no fields,

only fields of operation
and observation.

Sorry?

I didn't say anything.

The human being
can formulate

a strategy for death.

Gentle or defiant.

But then death
moves in completely

and decides
to run the show

at some point
near the end.

Nicola wasn't having
any of that.

She would be
running things right up

to the very last second.

You know,
I'm looking forward

to the eclipse.

It's on my birthday.

No, no, no, no, no.

You shouldn't have come
to my place.

Never should have done that.

Now I know why.

You didn't want me
to see how you live.

You live like a pig.

That is so fucking
out of order!

Sixty thousand Pounds.

That's more than you need

so that you could take care
of all your other troubles

and clear your mind,

for what's really important.

The big one.

The big one.

Yes.

TV stardom.

Televised?

See, that's where you belong.

That is where everything
that you want is.

Including me.

All right?

You can have a taste now.

I said... a taste.

A taste.

Now go home.

Oh, back in the game.

The finisher!

You're quite
the ballerina, Keith.

Chick.

Not-so-nice things
are gonna happen

to you in here.

Hey, listen.

There's no need for that. Look,
look, look, I got the money.

Look. It's right there.
I even got extra for ya.

- There's even extra in there.
- Go on, love. Have a look.

- Extra?
- Yeah.

- Count it.
- It's all there.

What?

You're a smart man.

You're a smart fucking man
to bring extra.

Read all about it.

I'm fucking proud of you.

Go on, son. Have it.

Have a bang on that. Fuckin' take it!

I feel like
I owe you an apology.

I want to see a man

that can handle
his fucking drugs.

Don't disappoint.

- I really need a hug.
- A hug?

- 'Cause the fucking floor's...
- Want me to hold you or something?

You looked
after me, didn't you?

I'll tell you why.

You're such a sweet,
sweet fucking boy.

- Chick, Chick, Chick.
- Look, look, look at me.

Look at me.

- There's no one else here.
- What?

It's just you and me, man.

Go on, open your eyes.

- I got the fucking money.
- Open your eyes.

- Fucking God. I had a bag of money.
- Where you want it?

- Cock?
- No, not the cock.

Is his name Jesus?
Tell me now.

- Is your cock's name Jesus?
- What?

- Chick, it is now.
- It is now?

Jesus fucking Christ.

And he was nailed
to the fucking cross.

- That's right.
- That's a nail.

I did it all for you.
Everything I've done.

On my face.

It's the sort of darts

that Robin Hood
would be proud of.

I understand
that in years past

you threw number three
for the pub, Keith.

Then boof!
Here you are

on a winning streak,
a contender for the throne.

Yeah, that's right.
It's very sweet, Tony.

You know, uh, the pub's
two top darters,

uh, Duane Kensal
and Alex O'Boye,

were defeated by me
very recently.

So the Duoshare comes round,

and, you know, it's given
me game a spirit, like.

You see,
I'm oozing confidence.

May Lady Luck
smile on you, Keith.

Right.

There's something about
Keith when he's in this mood.

He's so confident.
He's got talent, sure,

but that swagger,

how long can he keep it?

And how far will it take him?

Some say there's gonna be

a Chick Purchase rendezvous
a la darts.

Fuck him.

Oh.

Uh, we apologize sincerely
for the language.

I can't believe

it has taken me this long

to realize why I felt
so strange in your place,

and it's because
I've kind of done this.

I could've been you before.

It's a character
I wrote in my third novel,

Crossbone Waters.

And for all intents
and purposes, it was you.

And I cut him in the end.

The character was just too,
too depressing.

Just couldn't find
any truth in him.

You're not frightened to face
the truth, are you, Samson?

Don't be.
It doesn't serve you.

It won't help.

Anyway, who am I
to give advice?

Just 'cause I've
sold a few more books than you.

What do I know
about life and art?

Some say there's gonna be

a Chick Purchase rendezvous...

I ain't playing the board,
know what I mean?

Fuck him.

Oh.

I'm innocent.

That's not what I hear.

Oh, yeah.

Keith.

Do you remember what it feels
like to be punished?

Come here.

Oh, you know
Keith has another one now?

- Really?
- Yeah, oh, yeah.

Just around da corner.
The rich one.

You know the one I mean.

He be doing her arse off
every night.

Dark personality bitch.

What do you mean
I know the one?

I'm innocent.

See, I know you covet the bitch,
but she is his.

Keith is a slayer.

And one more thing,
she pays him for it.

- What?
- Mmm.

Keith is her toy boy.

No, she has nothing
to do with Keith like that.

Don't be a fool now, man.
You follow the darts?

Nicola. It is the one.

"I was the only one
who ever mattered.

"M.A."

Nicola, you've killed me.

Another writer.

What happened
to your apartment?

An accident.

Do you want to sit down?

What's wrong?

Yeah,
I'll tell you what, Nicky.

I'm not gonna wash that
for a month.

Pure filth, that was.

I'm sorry, I almost forgot
you were even here.

Keith.

Hey, I'll tell you what.
I'll let me self out, shall I?

Thank you.
Goodnight, Keith.

So, tell me...

I'm so sorry, but...

What were you saying?

Is he... Is he here
all the time?

I teach him.

You...

You... You teach him.
I don't understand.

I mean, it's not
that he's illiterate, exactly.

I mean, he's really
picking up on it.

He's doing great
actually, but...

You know, I gave him
his first copy

of Wuthering Heights
the other day.

- Just the other day.
- Hold on one second.

Has he ever...

Has he ever done
anything to you?

What do you mean?

Has he ever tried
to fuck you?

How could you even
ask me that?

I'm sorry, all right.
I'm so sorry. I just...

I'm sorry. I don't know
what came over me.

All right. I was just
being jealous. That's it.

Nicola.

Nicola.

It's because I love you.

That's why.

I love you.

I love you.

I just want
to protect you. I love you.

I want you to have
the keys to my flat.

Thank you.

I'll be right back.

Hi.

Hello.

It's okay.

May I touch?

Yes, please.

It's like a rock.

Yes.

The kiss of death.

Wait, wait, wait, wait...

Poisons and paralyzes.

There's something
I haven't told you.

What?

I'm a virgin.

Right. Okay.
Well, that's okay.

Do you... Do you...
Do you want to stop?

Do you think we should stop?

No. No, it's okay.

Oh, my God.

Nicola often found
herself imagining

that she was
going out with God.

She had slept with him once.

And once only.
Then never again.

God cried in the street
outside her flat.

God got Shakespeare
and Dante working

as a team
to write her poems.

Of course, there was
another man in Nicola's life.

The Devil.

Nicola gave herself
to the Devil

because she wanted
to make God mad.

A jealous God.

He threatened
to wash his hands

of the whole planet.

He promised plague
and famine and terror.

He threatened to make her old
and keep her that way forever.

Nicola told him to get lost.

- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
- What, what?

I just realized
something's terribly wrong.

What, what, what, what?

There's something
you have to do first.

You want me to leave my wife?
I'll leave my wife.

- I'll do it. I'll leave my wife. That's fine. That's fine.
- No, no, no, no.

What, what, what?

I don't want you to leave her.
I want you to tell her.

It's bad enough
what we're doing.

It could harm her more
if she doesn't know.

You want me to...

- Okay?
- You want me to...

- You want me to tell my wife?
- Okay?

Okay. Okay, that's fine.

Okay, that's fine.

Okay.

Okay, that's fine.

It's okay.

Samson, Mark.

Talk to your neighbors.
Get in there.

I would. Well, I did.

This was
the fifth of November.

This was horror day.

I wasn't in love with Nicola.

Something intertwined us...

but it wasn't love.

With Nicola,
it was the other thing.

Death.

Happy birthday.

Did he, uh...

Did he love you?

Did Mark write about you?

He was afraid of me.

He found a way to escape.

Without the story.

Without being in the story.

This is the dress
of my dreams.

Unofficial
declaration of war.

A nuclear...

Where the undefeated
Chick Purchase

will play the eighth seed
Keith Talent

in the Black Cross Pub.

Good luck, Keith.
You'll need it.

Probably sound
more dramatic

than it really is
I expect but...

There's someone else.

It seems to me that
there's been a need

to redefine our relationship.

You should have lied about it.

Would you like to know
how the story ends?

Or you could always imagine
whatever you want to.

No matter what's going on
in the world,

you can always imagine
anything you like,

and It'll make you happy.

Okay?

Package for you, sir.

Oh. Thank you.

Okay, so where's
the actual pub?

Pub?

You know,
where's the crowd

and the birds and that?

We use cutaways

and just slug in fake audience
reaction shots later.

There's never anybody here.

What you see at home
is 100 percent TV magic.

Love is blind.

But it makes you see
a blind man.

It makes you search him out
with eyes of love.

After years of war
and revolution,

dreams and imagination,

love is a big idea.

It's thought police.

It's a knock on the door
at 3 a.m.

Love makes you
bring on World War Three

for a piece of ass.

Enola Gay was
the plane that flew

the mission to Hiroshima.

The pilot named the aircraft
after his mother.

He was once her little boy.

But Little Boy was the name
of the atom bomb.

It killed 50,000 people

in 120 seconds.

Ah, there's Chick.

You certainly gotta
respect his style.

Well, he's got some nick,
and he's got the pull.

Yeah, who's that
with him?

It's Julian Neat.

Agent to the darting stars.

As always,
looking fabulous, Chick!

Thanks ever so much.

Hey, baby girl, eh.

Oh, Chick, mate.

Listen, let's say we forget
any past unpleasantries, eh?

What is a stunner
of this stature doing

with a fucking trog like you?

Eh?

Seriously! The mind boggles.

What is it, narcissistic
personality disorder or...

Ah, got it.

Likes to be watched. Eh?

I love
to be watched.

I would too,
if I was her.

Innit, Keithy? Or is it not?

Okay, you lot.

Pre-match interview.

In five, four, three,
two, one.

A real treat in store
for you this evening.

To my right,
the one and only

Chick "Cock 'o
the Walk" Purchase.

And to my left,
Keith Talent.

- So...
- Tony, sir,

I'm Keith Talent,
"The Finisher."

Right. Chick?

To be quite frank,

I just hope it's not too
one-sided really, you know.

For the sake of the sport,
for the sake of darts, like.

For Queen
and country really.

Got it. Brilliant.
Thanks, lads.

Thirty seconds, yeah?

Looking a bit
out of sorts, Keith.

Keith Talent,
the young upstart

from the Black Cross
will throw first.

That's a fine start
from Keith.

He's come
in with a ton 40.

- All right, Chick.
- Come on, Chick.

But what does
the maestro have?

What a star he is.

Whoa! You can say
you don't believe it,

but there we go.

That's how to start
a game of darts.

Get on with it.

There's one.
There's two.

And Chick is...
What's Chick doing?

He's toying with him.

What a shock.

Oh! That is
a schoolboy error.

This is man against boy.

This is boy against man.

Whipline throw from Purchase.
Get your darts out.

Can he keep it together

on the biggest stage
of his life?

Well, he's getting
a bit finished off here.

I'm not sure
he's really concentrating.

I'm not sure his mind's here.

He's responded
remarkably well

with that treble 20
to start off the leg.

Nicola.

- I have.
- Nicola.

What?

I think you should
come home with me now.

Please.

Nicola.

I think you should
come home with me.

Oh, don't be
ridiculous.

Come with me!

Hey, don't be a cunt!

Hey, it's game over, mate.

Yeah, yeah.
It's fucking game over.

Please, all right?

She's coming home with me.

She's coming home with me.

Yeah, for more of
what she got last night.

Fuck off.

Yeah. Ain't that right,
girl. Eh?

Hardly.

Keith, are you with us?

Of all the forces,
love is the strangest.

Love can make a woman
pick up a bus,

or can crush a man
under the weight of a feather.

Or it just lets
everything go on

as if it was yesterday...

and will be tomorrow.

Samson, Mark.

Slightly in my cups,
so I'm gonna...

say some
uncomfortable things, mate.

I know you're envious
on some level of me.

Many levels, probably.
And I can't blame you.

But here's the thing.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter
what anyone writes anymore.

The time for it mattering
has passed.

Truth doesn't matter anymore

and is not wanted.

Lower the flag, mate.

Anyway.

See ya.

Keith!

I'm gonna do her.

I'm gonna
fucking do her.

Eh, look what
she's done to me!

Look what
she's done to me!

Oh, you want some?

Oh, you fucking
want some, do ya?

Come on. Eh?

Come on then!
Fucking come on then!

- I lost it.
- I know.

I lost it.
I lost it.

Could you take him
to Thatcher Tower,

Golborne Road.

If you could help him
upstairs, please,

if you don't mind?

Look what
she's done to me.

Just get out
of the car, Guy.

Look at what
she's done to me!

I want you
to listen to me.

Get out
of the car.

Look what
she's done to me, Sam.

This is a true story,
but I can't believe

it's really happening.

It's a murder story too.

I can't believe my luck.

It's a love story,
of all strange things.

I know the murderer.

I know the murderee.

I know the time.

I know the place.

I know the motive...

and I know the means.

You.

Always you.

The equation
she was working on

needed love in it somewhere.

And love was dying.

It was fixed

from that first moment
in the Black Cross

when she looked my way
with eyes of recognition.

Please.

I should have understood
that a cross has four points.

Not three.

You can't stop people
once they start.

You can't stop people
once they start creating.

There are two kinds of titles.

The first kind of title
decides on a name

or something
that is already there.

The second kind of title
is present all along.

It lives and breathes...

or it tries, on every page.

If love travels
at the speed of light,

then it can have other powers

just on the edge
of the possible.

It can create impressions
on those left behind.

Like a sun, trying to shine
right across the universe.

It was me.

Always me.

It was me.

Joining me now in the studio

is award-winning
bestselling author,

Mark Asprey,

with his new novel,
London Fields.

It's such an honor
to have you here today.

Just for a treat
to our audience,

could you read a little bit
from your novel?

Certainly.

"After sex,
she'd whisper,

"'That's what I am,

"'a black hole.

"Nothing can escape me.'

"She had the power
of inspiring love

"almost everywhere.

"She received it,

"was empowered by it,
and returned it,

not merely negated,
but murdered."

Thank you.
That was great.

You know, I'm just
going through this,

and i-it doesn't
sound like you.

I-It... The kind of prose
it is written in,

the immediacy
of the language,

the whole style
of this,

it feels like
a real tectonic shift

that reads more
like a memoir really.

This is not the voice

of the Mark Asprey
that we all know.

My audience, my readers...

deserve this level
of authenticity.

No matter what the...

the cost
to me as an artist.

And I'm prepared
to shoulder that.

Buy the book.

Oh. All right.

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