800 Words (2015–2018): Season 1, Episode 2 - Episode #1.2 - full transcript

"Since the beginning of time...

.."man has needed a
retreat, a refuge, a cave,

"somewhere he can take
stock, reflect on things...

".. or even just, let's be honest here,

"escape everyday life."

Come on, Georgie! You can do it!

Not yet, he can't.

OK, maybe not yet.

Arlo? You said you'd help!

- Arlo?
- Arlo?

- Occupied, Dad.
- You're hiding from your sister.



No, I'm not. I swear.

Finish up and go and help your sister.

- Hey, how was your surf?
- Don't change the subject.

- Not any better, eh?
- Just get out of there, now.

- Arlo was meant to help.
- Arlo is indisposed.

Arlo is hiding.

- You OK for school?
- Oh, yeah.

Unbelievably thrilled.

What the hell is that?

- Oh!
- This is not happening.

- Arlo, what'd you do?
- Nothing unusual. I swear!

We're living in the Third World!

"The day our septic tank
exploded was an ominous one.

"A metaphor, if you like,
for what was to come...



.."on the day when there was no refuge."

Pongs a bit.

Yes, Woody, it does.

- Not ideal.
- No.

If I knew about plumbing,
I'd get stuck right in.

Yeah, I'm sure, but this
plumber you called me...

- He knows about plumbing, right?
- Bill McNamara?

- Best plumber in Weld.
- Out of how many?

- You'd be surprised.
- Dad!

Look, you take the young ones to school.

I'll hang here. I'll explain the problem.

Well, I think the problem's self-evident.

Yeah.

It stinks through the whole house.

- Yeah, so I noticed.
- That's all the dead bacteria.

It's producing organic compounds
like hydrogen sulfide.

Whatever. It still stinks.

Seriously, we can't live with this.

- One tick.
- Dad!

- How late do you want us to be?
- Thanks for coming.

Only takes a phone call, mate.

Even in this dead-end town.

Yeah, good.

Woody's round the back.
He'll explain everything.

I gotta rush, sorry. I'll
be back as soon as I can.

I'll come in and explain what happened.

You're not gonna explain
exactly what happened, are you?

I can live without the shame
of being known as the new kid,

let alone the one with
the exploding dunny.

Yeah, you're right. Fair
call. I'll phrase it better.

Dad. What do you notice about this school?

- Sorry?
- Look carefully, Dad.

Oh, shit. Uniforms.

Why didn't you mention
we had to wear uniforms?

- I didn't know.
- You researched the school.

- Like you researched the house.
- I did. Online.

- No photos of kids in uniforms?
- It didn't really twig.

- House -- the sequel.
- I will get you uniforms.

- It will be fine.
- No, it won't be fine.

As if being the new kids wasn't
bad enough, we're the new kids

who couldn't get their shit
together to get uniforms.

Plus we're the Australian
new kids, and Kiwis are

notoriously racist when
it comes to Australians.

- Three strikes already.
- Four.

If you mention the toilet thing.

We are not mentioning the toilet thing.

No-one is mentioning the toilet thing.

Now, now... Now, it'll be fine. Come on.

This way, guys.

Excuse me.

Um... I'm looking for someone to help me.

- Aren't we all, Mr Turner?
- You know who I am?

Yes. Which must make
you Shay and you Arlo.

Welcome to Weld District High School.

I'm Ms Dennis -- Tracey -- your
form teacher and fellow exile.

No, no, no, we're not in the same year.

Oh, it's OK, Shay, relax.

Our form classes are
mixed across all years.

I'm also Arlo's history
teacher and your house dean.

We multi-task around here,
in our little dead-end town.

Come with me -- I'll get you settled in

with timetables and all that.

You'll need to speak to Penny
in the office about paperwork.

- Come on.
- They haven't got uniforms.

We can let that slide
for a couple of days.

Penny will point you
in the right direction.

Alright, you lot, settle down.

I want you to welcome Shay and Arlo.

They'll be starting here today.

As is our way, I need someone
to buddy up with them,

make sure they know where they're going.

I'll be Arlo's buddy!
We're buddies already.

Thank you, Billy.

- And I'll look after Shay.
- And thank you, Lindsay.

Isn't this awesome?

I was so excited when I heard we're in

just about every class together.

You know the first thing you need to know?

No...

We don't like smart-arses round here.

If you say so.

Your dad's a smart-arse.

Hope you're not the same.

Good morning -- uh, Penny from the school

said this is where I come to get uniforms.

- For the school?
- Yeah.

- No. - Penny said this was the shop...

Normally, yes, but no. We
don't have any at the moment.

- None at all?
- It's the middle of the term.

- Everyone's got their uniforms.
- I need uniforms for my kids.

- They've just started at school.
- Try in Stafford.

It's not the dead-end Weld is.

You're brave. Showing
your face in public today.

I called Weld a 'dead-end'
in the column I write.

Yeah. You did.

All day, people have thrown
that phrase in my face.

- Well, I'm not surprised.
- But I write for a Sydney paper.

There's a thing. I don't
know if you've heard of it.

It's called the internet.

- Everyone's read my column?
- Well, no, but...

They've certainly read all about it.

This was a total misrepresentation

of everything I wrote.

You didn't call Weld a 'dead-end town'?

Well, well, yes, but those
were only 3 words out of 800 --

two, actually, because I hyphenated them.

Yeah, but hyphen or no
hyphen, as far as words go...

But I meant them in an affectionate way.

That sense doesn't
really leap off the page.

Because the only words
they used from my column

were 'dead', 'end' and 'town',
and I meant them in the sense

that Weld is somewhere where
I feel relaxed, at home.

I think when people read the word 'dead',

they stop thinking warm, fuzzy thoughts.

Yeah, well, I originally
wrote 'kinda dead-end town',

but I... I had to cut the
'kinda' 'cause it was 801 words.

- And your column's '800 Words'.
- So it has to be 800 words.

Does anyone actually count
how many words it is?

I do.

It's a thing I have.

A rule.

It's not weird.

I don't think the 'kinda'
would have made any difference.

I need to speak to whoever wrote this.

- Good luck there.
- Why?

You'll see. But first, you
should read the other article.

Hello?

- Mr Turner.
- Hey, Constable.

Tom. Call me Tom. Everyone does.

Constable Tom, to give me my full title.

- Do you work here?
- Oh, I do the photos.

The law is my job, but
photojournalism is my passion.

The latest defacement of the billboard.

I know who's doing it. Just
a question of catching him.

Idiot can't even spell 'dead' properly.

- Is the editor here?
- No, no. He's never here.

No-one's ever here.

Well, how does it get published?

Just does. Bit of a mystery, really.

Go away. I don't want to
talk to anyone right now.

Have you seen this?

- Some kid...
- Jared McNamara.

Your buddy Lindsay's little brother.

.. shoved it in my face and told
me to go back to Australia-land.

- No! This cannot get any worse.
- Two pages over.

It's a nice photo of you, though.

How'd you go?

Great, thanks.

Hey, boss. Things got
a bit out of hand, eh?

So Bill basically took one look at it,

said he wouldn't touch it,
then he phoned the council,

and the council guys came,

and then the guys with
the freaky suits came,

and then they just stood around for ages

talking about your column
and that bloody Aussie.

Alright, I said, every man is
entitled to their own opinion,

and just because everyone
hates that opinion

doesn't make the man less of a man.

Yeah, thanks, Woody.

Then they gave me this to give to you.

Like a notification for biohazard stuff.

There's a thingy in there letting you know

you can't use the toilet inside.

- What?
- Till everything's sorted out.

Some crap about penalties for
having an illegal septic tank.

I didn't even know I had a
septic tank till this morning.

Yeah, I know. Think it just
magically disappears, don't ya?

But there is a silver
lining. Yeah. Come with me.

Behold!

Behold what?

Well, the site for your
new thinking place.

I cleared it this morning.

What, are you proposing
we put a toilet here?

Yeah. Just gotta dig a hole and...

I'll fashion a seat out of
something and you're laughing.

- Well, thanks, Woody.
- No worries.

But I just don't think the kids
are gonna go for this idea.

Yeah, but once they check out that view...

Yeah. Still not entirely sure.

If you hate it so much,
why are you living here?

Not my choice.

Why don't you go back to Seed-ney?

What part of "Not my
choice" didn't you get?

Ooh!

I bet you think you're better than us.

And you're meant to be my buddy.

Yeah, well, buddy this, buddy.

Nice.

Real nice. Thanks, guys.

The history of Weld is about
a few families who came here

and defeated the vicious natives
who thought they owned the land,

even though my family had the
papers to prove they did.

These families, which
included my family...

.. made the land into farms,
which were rich farms,

that made Weld able to have shops,

which is why the town of Weld exists.

Thank you for listening.

Thank you, Jared. That was...

Yes. Which means we have one
more speech to go. Billy.

Uh, miss, why does the new
kid not have to give a speech?

Because he just got here, Jared.

Oh, but his dad knows all about Weld.

Why doesn't he tell us why his
dad thinks we're all losers?

Which is not actually
true, is it, and also has

absolutely nothing to do
with what we're doing here.

And that, thankfully, is that.

Billy, we'll pick up your speech tomorrow.

Man, I hate it when that happens.

I was psyched, ready to roll.

- So now you know.
- What?

Whose town you're in.

- And don't you forget it.
- Forget what?

Yeah.

You gathering some more ammunition

to launch at the next
family to settle here?

Yeah. Nah.

Every now and then when I'm out,
I see a rock that speaks to me.

Literally or in an artistic sense?

You want a hand with that?

- No, no. I'm good.
- Come on.

Let me prove I'm not a complete monster.

Why are you a monster?

Didn't you know? I'm now
the most hated man in Weld.

- Why? What'd you do?
- Front page of the local paper?

Ugh. I never read that propaganda sheet.

Right. Yeah, well, I wrote
something about the town.

In my column. You know, about
how Weld was a dead-end town.

- Well, that's harsh.
- Yeah. I meant it in a good way.

Oh -- for a writer,

you might want to choose
your words a bit better.

So I'm learning.

But respect to you for
managing to piss off Big Mac.

- Big who?
- Old man McNamara.

He owns the paper.
Thinks he owns the town.

- Monty McNamara?
- His dad.

His brood and their demon
spawn are everywhere,

and if you're in their bad
books, you're deep in the kaka.

Hi. I'm here about my, um...

I can guess why you're here, Mr Turner.

- Your non-compliant septic tank. - Yes.

The thing is, I'm more than
happy to do what I need

to get everything to comply --
replace the tank if necessary...

The consent process is explained

in the paperwork we left with you.

Yeah, well, I'm sure it is, but...

I'm just wondering if
you could help us out.

We don't even have a working toilet.

Shame you didn't think of that beforehand.

- Of my septic tank?
- Hm.

Or before I wrote the column?

Before you bought the house.
But what would I know?

I'm just a man in a dead-end
job in a dead-end town.

Hello?

You have to come home now.

- Woody?
- Come home now.

- G'day, George.
- Monty.

Mr Turner.

Bill McNamara.

Everyone calls me Big Mac.

George Turner.

George.

You've got a bit of a mess
on your hands, haven't you?

"I guess the point I'm trying to make

"is there are times
when there is no refuge.

"There are times when the battle

"doesn't so much come to your door...

.."as sit on your couch
drinking your tea."

Don't get me wrong.

I think it's great that an esteemed writer

has moved to town.

I write a small column,

which is an anachronism
in these blogging times,

for a newspaper -- another
anachronism, I guess --

so I would hardly call myself 'esteemed'.

There you go, using your writerly words.

- Putting me at a disadvantage.
- Not really.

And I'm beginning to
understand that in terms

of advantage around Weld,
you and your family have it.

George, I'm just a simple farmer.

I just dabble in this and
that as opportunity allows.

I'm just a guy looking to make
a home for me and my family.

And I love that. So how's
it working out for you?

What can I do for you, Big Mac?

Something stinks, George.

Well, that would be my backyard.

Among other things.

One of the things you dabble in,
would that be the local paper?

I see that more as a community
service than a dabble.

Do you want a job?

At your newspaper?

It could use a man of your talents.

Weld isn't exactly thick on the ground

with people who can put pen to paper.

After what your paper wrote about me?

I only wrote about what
you wrote about us.

You wrote the article?

Well, strictly speaking, I
edited it, as my job as editor.

There was fairness in the
editing? I must've missed that.

Yeah, never mind about Monty,
George, because the thing is

that this is a crucial time for Weld.

It's important this region is seen

in the most positive possible light.

For the greater good.

And if we all work together,
for this greater good,

then that goes both ways.

You see what I'm saying, George?

It's hard not to, Bill.

Weld is a generous place

that lends a helping hand to
those that are generous to it.

I got you the first time.

Just giving you some ideas
for your next column.

Well... Good to finally meet you, George.

Monty here speaks highly of you.

It's a shame Monty didn't
speak to me of the septic tank.

I was as surprised as you were, George,

when my brother told me about the whole...

I'm sure we'll talk again, George.

Yeah, I'm sure we will.

Intense.

I don't think I've ever
seen Big Mac that angry.

Hey! You know what you should do?

What?

Write a nice column about
Weld to make up for it.

- Thanks, Woody.
- Yeah, no worries.

Hey, Aussie!

- We'll see you tomorrow.
- Yeah.

It being a school day.

You know what I mean.

Yeah, 'cause you're so subtle.

Do you want to come round to my place?

- I'm all good, thank you.
- It's OK if you want.

- Nah, nah. I'm good, thanks.
- Are you sure? 'Cause it's OK.

Yeah, I'm pretty good, thanks, Billy.

- Billy!
- Hey, Dad.

Your mum wants you at home.

Something about a rock
that needs cleaning.

OK. We'll buddy up again tomorrow.

I'm pretty alright, thanks.

- Where's Dad?
- How would I know?

- So your day sucked too, huh?
- What's wrong with these people?

So what Dad wrote their town
sucks? They're teenagers.

They're meant to think
where they live sucks.

- It's where we live.
- Don't remind me.

Hey, Aaaaarlo!

What kind of a gay name is Arlo anyway?

I see you've made a special friend too.

Aaaaarlo.

What kind of a halfwit still
uses 'gay' like it's an insult?

- Hey.
- Hey.

- You guys need a lift?
- Oh, nah.

Dad's picking us up. Thanks, though.

He hasn't been run out of town yet?

We should be so lucky.

- See ya.
- 'Bye.

Your new boyfriend
doesn't say much, does he?

Don't be an idiot, Arlo.

- Took your time.
- Sorry. Been a hell of a day.

Just please say it's been a day
that involves a new toilet.

No.

And yes.

I was gonna build walls, and I thought,

"No. Why block that view?"

Because views go both ways?

Nah. No-one's gonna see you out here.

Not unless you're a perv with a telescope.

Nope. No way. Not ever. I'm not doing it.

What if I need to go in
the middle of the night?

- Well, we could grab a torch.
- Yeah. But...

If you do, don't drop it in.

And if you do drop it in,
don't bother retrieving it.

Can we eat at The Boat Club
tonight? It has actual toilets.

Yes, we can.

Uh, but...

Sorry about that, Woody.

Nah, it's OK.

Some people are more at one
with nature than others.

Yeah.

You mind if I'm the one to christen it?

- Go for your life.
- Cheers.

What's everyone's problem anyway?

They need to get over
themselves and wake up

to the fact that this IS a dead-end town.

- No, it's not.
- Google "dead-end town".

- Picture of Weld.
- No, it's not. No, no.

Weld has a lot of things going for it.

You're only saying that

because you dragged us
here against our will.

No. No, I'm not.

Then why did you write
it's a dead-end town

and start this nightmare, on
top of all other nightmares?

- They were poorly chosen words.
- Oh, you think?

- Everything alright here?
- Oh, we have no toilet.

- And everyone hates us.
- I meant with the food.

- Depends. Did you spit in it?
- Ew.

- Shay!
- What? It's a fair question.

- Given the circumstances.
- No, I didn't spit in it.

Though I can't vouch for the
chef. Need anything else?

No, we just... we just need
the bill, thanks, Hannah.

Sweet as.

- Right. I'm going before we go.
- Again? That's the third time.

We don't know when we're gonna
see modern plumbing again.

Me too.

I have an idea how you can
make everyone love you.

Is it the same idea as Big Mac's?

Oh, ignore Bill. I've got a better idea.

Come and talk at my book club.

I haven't actually written a book.

Well, you've written
something, which is way ahead

of anyone else we've had at book club.

Everybody hates what I wrote.

You can start winning the crowd
over one person at a time.

Or four, if everyone there likes you.

Thank you, Fiona. Maybe some other time.

But I think I might keep
a low profile for a bit.

- Sure?
- Yes. It's an interesting idea.

But I... I think I still might pass.

OK. But if you change your mind,
you know where to find me.

You're not ready yet.

Hate you to put the
'dead' into 'dead-end'.

I know what you're thinking.

What am I thinking, Woody?

Ah, you're wondering if she's
right, that you're past it,

you're washed-up, you're
ratshit, you're dreaming, mate.

- It's like you're in my head.
- But she did say 'yet'.

Which means that one
day, you will be ready.

"This place -- this place
I've displaced my family to --

"was meant to be our refuge.

But what do you do, where do you go,

"when you need refuge from your refuge?"

I'll try to get to Stafford and
sort out the uniform thing.

- Alright?
- Yeah, and the chemical toilet.

- Don't forget that.
- Yep.

My life has come to the
point where a chemical toilet

is a step in the right direction.

It'll be like having a science
experiment in our own bathroom.

Oh, joy.

Today's the day, my ugly blister.

- What?
- It's decision day. D-day.

Making sense would be
kinda good about now.

Time to get primal on it.
Do we fight or do we flee?

You hear me?

I hear you.

But first, actual plumbing.

- Yes and no.
- Sorry?

Yes and no.

No, the question was "Do
you sell chemical toilets?"

Surely that's either a yes or no.

Yes, we sell the chemicals.

No, we're out of the actual toilets.

- You could try over in...
- In Stafford. Yeah, I get it.

Oh, you're kidding me.

- How often does this come out?
- Varies. Sometimes weeks go by.

- Two issues in two days?
- Yep.

Nothing like a scandal to
get the people going, eh?

Well, I'm thrilled you find it amusing.

Oh, go you and your scathing words.

Man, people are sensitive here.

Hey, you chose to move to the
Land of the Thin White Skin.

That is undeniably true.

Well, if it helps, everyone
here loves the fact

you're back writing again, even
the ones who think you're insane

for moving to New Zealand.

Have you read the comments?

Uh, I'm living my own
set of comments here.

Well, over here, they're
generally favourable.

- Well, that really cheers me up.
- So...

Have you formulated a plan

to get the populace back onside?

According to the local
bigwig, all I have to do is

write something nice, everything
will magically get better.

So write something nice.

I don't like getting
told what to write, Jan.

Oh, and this is that
point in the conversation

where I remind you that you
have a deadline tomorrow.

I'm sorry. I didn't... didn't hear that.

Yeah, the reception's not very
good here. No-one knows why.

Can I help?

Yeah, I'm just wondering
how my application

for retroactive certification of
an illegal septic tank is going.

It's being processed.

Isn't that it right there?

- That's part of the process.
- Right.

What is it with you people?

'Dead-end' is not the end of the world.

'Dead-end' is charming,
out-of-the-way, peaceful.

It's not the most heinous
insult ever. Not even close.

And... and what about all the other words,

which I spent being nice about Weld?

Do they not matter a damn
compared to the two words

which, when taken out of context,

make it sound like I'm not happy here?

I love Weld! I want to live
here for the rest of my life!

But I cannot do that without a toilet!

It's in the pile, being processed.

I can see that.

And so you can see, from
our unusual rock formations,

our weird phone coverage and the
humming sound the ground makes,

that the history of Weld is as much shaped

by the giant alien spaceship
buried under the site

of the proposed old folks village

as it was by colonialism.

Thank you for listening to my speech.

Thank you, Billy, for that
very... thought-provoking speech.

Quite an interesting
one to end on, I think.

- Yes, Arlo?
- What about my speech?

You don't have to do a speech.
You've only been in Weld a week.

Yeah, but you can learn a
lot about a place in a week.

That is true. And you've written one?

- Yep.
- Bring it on.

- Your dad write it for you?
- Jared!

Sometimes it takes an outsider

to see things the way they really are,

to be the fresh eyes
that can tell the truth.

And I know I haven't been here long,

but what I have seen in this short time

has confirmed everything I
learned through my research

into the history of Weld
-- namely, that it's a story

of religious extremism, uh,
cannibalism and racism,

bestiality and why inbreeding
is a really bad idea.

Hey, Aussie! There's something
we don't understand.

Really? That's surprising.

What gives your dad the
right to slag off our town?

- Have you read the column?
- No. Why would I?

Because then you might have some idea

what you're actually talking about.

I read the newspaper headline.

Yeah, I'm sure that was more
than enough for you to process.

Are you saying I'm dumb or something?

No. Not dumb.

Not even something.

Because you and I, buddy, we're the same.

- Uh, no, we're not.
- Uh, yeah, we are.

Because we both know
that outside this hole

exists a real world.

The difference between us
is that I have been there

and you are a tragic,
attention-seeking slut-bag

that will never go anywhere
in your entire existence.

So either step away from me
and never speak to me again

or bring it, you bitch.

Oh. Um... We're not
actually open yet, George.

Yeah, I was nearby, and you said
I knew where to find you, and...

- I'm in. If that's still OK.
- In?

- To speak at your book club.
- Great!

What changed your mind?

Oh, just the realisation
that I do need to start

changing people's minds, four
minds at a time, if necessary.

Well, you picked a good place
to start. My place, at 8:00.

Um, it's traditional to bring a bottle.

Sure I can manage that.

Excuse me. I'll see you there.

- Hello?
- Mr Turner, hi.

It's Tracey Dennis here, from the school.

Hi. What can I do for you?

Are you able to come to the school now?

- Now?
- Yes.

I'm afraid we have
something of a situation.

George! Thank you for coming in.

- Where are they?
- This way.

OK, starting alphabetically.
Arlo. We were doing speeches.

And in his, he chose to take a...

.. well, a rather revisionist
approach to the history of Weld.

And so, eventually, the small
group of religious nut cases

were forced to leave Nova Scotia

after one of their number
were accused of foul play

involving some of the local livestock.

After many months at sea, the
surviving members of the party,

now only consisting of
one family, the McNamaras,

made landfall, by being shipwrecked,

on the coastline of
what we now know as Weld.

And how did the new arrivals
repay the local Maoris

who pulled them from the
waters of Parata Bay?

By bringing them disease, which wiped out

much of their population, making it easier

for the McNamaras to steal
all of their land...

That's my family he's talking about!

But it's not like the
McNamaras actually cared.

They were far too busy
keeping to themselves.

- If you know what I mean.
- Go, Arlo! Tell it like it was!

Which is the only possible explanation

as to why Jared McNamara
here is the way he is today.

- Thank you for listening.
- Jared, sit down!

I'm sorry. This... this
has never happened before.

Meanwhile, in the art room...

What did you just say?

Let me put it in a way
you might understand.

Get out of my face and stop
talking shit about my family.

- Go, Lindsay.
- Go, Lindsay!

Um, I'm sorry again,

and, again, this has
never happened before.

Obviously, it happening again
is what we're worried about.

So all parties involved
will be stood down for today

until we decide what further
actions need to be taken.

Of course.

What the hell were you two thinking?

I don't know about her.

I was sick of people picking
on you for no reason.

Mainly, I just wanted
her to stop being a cow.

- We will talk about this again.
- Oh, you bet we will.

-And, again, I, uh...

- I apologise.
- That's OK.

- Thank you.
- It's OK.

I'll see you tonight.

Sorry?

- Book club.
- Oh, right. Yeah.

Yeah, I'll, uh, see you there.

No, Jared, that's enough.
You're a bloody idiot!

Get in the van. No, you're
going to boarding school.

That's enough. Don't you
roll your eyes at me.

Get in there as well. You know
what? You're not far behind him.

Get in there.

Looks like we're gonna need a new plumber.

You would do very well not
to say anything right now.

I sincerely hope this
wasn't part of a plan.

That get kicked out of school

equals we somehow end up back in Sydney.

Because that's not gonna happen.

No. But good idea, though.

Don't even joke about it.

Seriously, Dad, it was fight or flee.

And we fought, and I'm not sorry we did.

We told you. We did it for you.

Even though you saying it's
a dead-end was the first time

you've actually got something
right about this place.

No, I was wrong, but not as wrong as you.

I just want these people to accept us.

- Why?
- Because we have to live here.

No, I mean, why do you
want them to accept us?

If they can't accept us for
who we are, then screw them.

That was magnificent.

The sunset over Parata Bay. Not just that.

See the mood hasn't improved
in here while I was out.

You know what might help that?
An actual functioning kitchen.

Yeah, top of my priority list.

What about an actual functioning toilet?

- Yeah, I built you a perfect...
- Indoors.

That's more your dad's priority list.

- And I'm getting onto that.
- How?

- Fiona.
- George.

I was just on my way to your house.

Oh, no need. Woody! Why aren't
you answering your phone?

What? No-one's rung. Oh, no.

- What, you're in the book club?
- Why does that surprise you?

Your guest appearance has
made my little book club

the hottest ticket in town.

No way am I having all
that mob at my house.

- Mob?
- Everyone that wants to come.

That's why we've changed the venue.

- To where?
- Town hall.

See, that's the one there, but
if you just chuck it down there.

Great. Nice work there, Liz. Looking good.

Last book club, there were four of us.

- And then word spread.
- See?

You're getting the hang of this place.

- I can't do this.
- Well, I know what you mean.

I hate crowds too. But I find wine helps.

No, it's what you said
about them being a mob.

- They want to lynch me.
- They don't. Not all of them.

Some of them actually want to
hear your side of the story.

- And then lynch me.
- That will depend on the story.

- I have no story.
- Course you do.

- No, I don't.
- Everyone's got a story, George.

The key is all in the telling. Drink up.

- Why are my kids here?
- I asked Woody to bring them.

So that they could witness their
father's triumphant moment.

Oh.

That's the spirit.

I'll give you a bit of an intro.

Um... Thank you, Hannah. Let's just...

Good evening, everyone.

What a great turnout for tonight's meeting

of the Weld Book Club.

We'll just get straight to
tonight's star attraction.

The fact that we have an
actual living author with us.

Please welcome Mr George Turner.

- You're the dead-end, Turner!
- Bill McNamara!

There is no heckling at book club!

Sorry, Fiona.

George. Firstly, welcome to book club.

And welcome to Weld.

Thank you.

Do you want to tell us a bit
about what brought you here?

Don't people want to have a
go at me for what I wrote?

Well, I'm sure we'll get to that, but...

First, why don't you tell everyone

the story of... of why you're here?

OK. Well, uh... It all
started a few months ago.

Almost seven months ago. When, um...

Uh, no, no, it, uh,
started when I was a kid,

and we used to have our summer
holidays here, in Weld, and, uh,

I guess this place has
always lived in my mind

since those days, and so recently,

when I was trying to figure
out how I was gonna...

.. bring up a couple of
teenage kids on my own,

I... I thought of Weld,
and Parata Bay, and...

.. and thought if there
was anywhere in the world

where I could do that, it would be here.

Why?

- Sorry?
- Why did you think of Weld?

Because we used to holiday
here when I was a kid.

I mean, why, recently,
did you think of Weld?

What drew you here?

It was... It was when my...

It was when my wife died.

That's when you thought about coming here?

Yep.

So death looms large in your life, then?

Recently?

Yeah, it does.

Yeah.

Yeah, it does.

So I suppose when I... when I wrote

that Weld was a 'dead-end',
what I was actually trying to say

was that...

.. Weld...

.. was a new beginning after death.

- Does that sound right?
- Sounds perfect.

You just didn't word the
column very well, did you?

No, I did not. No, and I'm...
I'm very sorry about that.

Well, good to finally sort that out.

And I presume that...
that it is sorted out.

Unless someone else has
something that they want to say?

No? Good.

Now, this is the part of
the evening where we usually

stop talking about books
and start drinking, so...

Who has brought their bottle of
wine, per book club etiquette?

Course you did.

- Thank you for that.
- For what?

For healing things so adroitly.

Oh, you... you think
you're off the hook, do ya?

"Sometimes refuge isn't actually a place.

"Instead, it can be a state of mind,

"where the world suddenly
seems much kinder,

"a lot more welcoming."

I'm sorry to hear about your wife.

Well, thank you.

And if you ever need ideas for
your columns, just come to me.

- I've always got ideas.
- OK.

Have you ever thought about writing about

why there are so many ads on TV?

Or dogs. People love stories about dogs.

No, no-one wants to hear
about your dog, Sean.

Just 'cause you're a cat person.

There's a reason cat
videos outweigh dog videos

on the internet 8-to-1, Sean.

- Now you're just making that up.
- Even so.

By the way, your consent will be
granted within 10 working days.

George!

Corker.

I'm really sorry about
my boy clocking your boy.

- He's off to boarding school.
- Oh, you don't have to do that.

No, I do. He's an annoying little shit.

I'll come round tomorrow and
I'll clean up your tank as well.

Oh, Sean said the paperwork
wouldn't be ready for 10 days.

Forget about the paperwork, mate.

Nobody worries about paperwork here.

George. One more.

You moved me, George,

sitting up there.

Reminded me of when Norma passed away.

We share a bond, you and me.

Yeah, I guess.

Upbeat stories, that's what we need.

- Shine a good light on us all.
- Couldn't agree more.

You and me, we could be real good mates.

Or great enemies, George.

Hey?

Only time will tell...

.. Big Mac.

Me again.

I heard you dealt to Lindsay McNamara.

We, uh, had artistic differences.

Oh.

Choice.

You should be very proud of your dad.

- I am, most of the time.
- What he's done is very brave.

Yeah. Good on him, eh, you
know, trying something new.

I suppose...

I'm sure you'll settle in
fine if you just give it time.

Seriously, there's no-one at the
paper who can actually write,

and I know this because I'm the
one who does all the writing.

- Well, I'll think about it.
- OK. Can't pay ya, but still.

- Well, I will think about it.
- So how did your wife die?

Siouxsie! You don't ask
questions like that.

Why not? It's what everyone
else is thinking, isn't it?

So how did she die?

How my wife died is no-one's
business except ours.

Excuse me.

"At the end of the day,
while no refuge is perfect...

.."there are still worse
places to take in the view."