800 Words (2015–2018): Season 1, Episode 3 - Episode #1.3 - full transcript

"I've been thinking about what
constitutes truth these days."

"How do we know what is
or isn't the truth?

"And then what if a story
becomes truth?

"How do you tell the difference
between one and the other?

"Dodgy ground,
this truth thing."

- What are we looking at?
- Wait and see.

I want your honest, unfiltered
reaction. Not far now.

What's the school bus
doing out here?

Taking the kids to school?

Well, isn't it
miles off the route?

Yeah, I suppose,
strictly speaking, but...



- Denis takes detours.
- Why?

Sometimes people call him up
to grab their kids

when they stay at their aunty's
and stuff.

Other times, he just likes
going for a drive.

This one time, on a bloody
hot day, pulled up at the river

and let everyone jump out
and have a swim.

Oh. Just up here.

What do you reckon?

- For the bathroom?
- Yeah.

To replace the perfectly good

but much smaller window
that's already there?

Well, to improve the view.

So it matches the view
from your long-drop?

Yes. Same theory. To make you
as one with the world.



And the world as one with me
in my bathroom?

- Pass.
- You sure?

Yeah, but thanks for bringing me
all the way out here for this.

Yeah, no worries.

- Hey, g'day, Sean.
- Hey, Woody.

You here on council business?

No.

Hey, how did you go

with that front door
with the stag on it?

Brenda hated it.

Oh, did she? That's a shame.

- I have to go.
- Yeah, righto.

- Catch you later, Sean.
- What was that about?

Oh, Sean works for the council,
but he's doing up his place...

No, the way he reacted
when he saw me.

Oh, that.

Um...

I wouldn't worry about that,
if I was you.

- You have to try kina.
- Kina?

Sea urchin.
But you crack them open.

And there's like
this delicious snot inside.

Next time Dad goes diving,
I'll get him to get you some.

Oh, great. Can't wait.

Uh-oh.
Should we go another way?

Nah. She knows not to mess
with the Turners now.

Ah! Ow!

Man.
What's wrong with her?

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

- Are you even in this class?
- No.

- Is it still the column thing?
- What is?

- Sean, from the council.
- Oh, that. Um...

No, everyone's
cool with that now.

I think people just dig
there's a celebrity in town.

- I'm not a celebrity.
- In Weld, you are.

That's probably why Sean reacted
like that - your celeb factor.

He took one look at me and fled?

Well, you know. People have
weird reactions to celebrities.

Well, fear isn't usually
one of them.

What's going on, Woody?

I can't say, alright? It's...
It's not in my nature.

- What isn't?
- Well, to gossip, alright?

- Gossip's bloody evil.
- What gossip?

- That'd be passing on gossip.
- Well, is the gossip about me?

Even that'd be saying too much.

Telling the gossiped-about
person what the gossip is

is not passing on the gossip.

That's easy for you to say.

- George.
- What?

- Uh, stop.
- Stop what?

The car!

Denis zones out sometimes, eh?

- How do you mean gossip?
- School full of teenagers, Dad.

- All they do is gossip.
- About us, specifically?

You mean
about your stupid column?

- Well, maybe.
- So yesterday's news. Thank God.

Tell me about Denis.

- The guy who drives the bus?
- Yeah.

- Why?
- Well, I saw the bus today.

Not where I thought it would be.

Yeah, the route kind of changes
from day to day.

- Why?
- I don't know.

We're just along for the ride.

- Why are you asking?
- Oh, no reason.

Hey, I might drop you
at school tomorrow.

- See ya, Dad.
- See ya.

- Are you coming in?
- Just need a quick chat.

Nothing concerning you guys.

- Hello.
- Hi.

- Mr Turner.
- Penny.

Any chance of a quick chat
to the principal?

He's very busy.
Is it important?

Only if you consider the lives
of your students important.

Bevan. Bevan Monteith. Pleased
to finally meet you, George.

Take a seat. Listen, I'm sorry
I didn't welcome you in person.

But things have been very busy
here. I'm sure you understand.

The bus driver that does runs
to and from the school here...

- Denis? He's a lovely chap.
- Yeah.

Well, what about him?

- Well...
- Mind you, strictly speaking...

The bus run does fall
in the domain of the ministry

and not the school,
just... just so you know.

So when the driver
runs a stop sign

and collects an oncoming car,
with your students on board,

that won't be your problem?

Hm...

- Go! You're late!
- Yeah, I know.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

- Running a bit late.
- Yeah, so I gathered.

How are you doing?

Well, people keep giving me
weird looks

and a wide berth,
but apart from that...

Idiots -
I've told everyone I can

not to believe a word of it.

- Of what?
- What's being said.

And, of course,
you haven't heard.

- That is so typical.
- Heard about what?

People just piss me off,
you know.

Happily sticking their noses
into other people's...

Heard about what, Katie?

Don't know
how I can sugar-coat this.

- So don't.
- Basically...

What I heard... was that you
used the insurance money

from your wife's... death
to buy your place here.

No. That's not right.

Yeah, well, that's better
than the rest of the story.

Which is that the reason
you ended up in Weld

was because
the Australian police

think that you murdered your
wife for the insurance money

and you had to
get out of the country.

- What?!
- I know! It's complete bullshit.

- That's what I told the person
who told me. -Which was who?

Please don't do that thing
where you'd rather not say.

Oh, nah, no way. It was Zac.

I'm just saying
what I heard, OK?

- Believe everything you hear?
- No.

Well, you clearly believe it
enough to pass it on.

Only to you.

Why am I so special I'm the one you
impart your great knowledge to?

You talk to him a lot.

He's gonna pop into
one of our chats

how he murdered his wife
for the insurance money?

Do people seriously think
I'm a murderer?

I don't.

Well, thank you...
for telling me.

"When you are the victim of
gossip, you have two choices -

"ignore it until people move on

"or track down the source
and destroy it."

- Where'd you hear it from, Zac?
- You spoke to Katie, right?

Yeah. I want to know
who spoke to you.

Oh, is this this nonsense
that's been going round?

- You heard it too?
- I heard it when he heard it.

But I didn't blab it
to anyone and everyone.

I didn't blab. Just asked Katie
if she thought it was true.

Of course it isn't true.

- Is it?
- Of course it's not!

I want to know who started the
rumour, who you heard it from.

And please don't try
to protect them.

- No, never. It was Monty.
- Yeah, Monty.

They reckon he murdered his wife
for the insurance money,

they couldn't prove anything,
so he buggers off over here.

He buys a house he's never seen
before, pays for it in cash.

- In actual cash?
- Well, not actual cash.

But one lump sum.
No mortgage or anything.

That's the sort of money
an insurance policy gets you.

- I did not murder my wife!
- No-one believes you did.

- Except for Monty.
- No-one who isn't an idiot.

- So how did your wife die?
- Zac!

- What? -You don't just bloody
blurt out a question like that.

Sorry if it was on the nose,
but if everyone knows the truth,

then that'll put the kibosh
on the rumours.

How my wife died is nobody's
business except my family's.

"Of course, one of
the complicating factors

"in hunting down a lie is that
the truth can actually be worse.

"Don't get me wrong.
The lie must be extinguished.

"But sometimes the ideal
is that the whole truth

"does not emerge along the way."

Kia ora, and welcome to McNamara
Real Estate. How can we help?

George! Let me guess.
You've decided to sell.

Monty.
Tell me if this rings a bell.

It's the story of a man
who murdered his wife,

scored the insurance
and used the cash

to buy a house
in another country.

Sound like the sort of story
you might have passed on, Monty?

George, with all due respect,
I never said...

When people say "due respect",
there's generally no respect.

I am full of respect for you.
I'm overflowing with respect.

Which is why I was at pains
to point out

that you didn't pay in cash,

'cause that would have
seemed suspicious.

Rest of the crap,
you were happy to pass on.

Well, not happy. It pained me.

- But you still passed it on.
- This is a small town, George.

The people out there need to
fill their lives with something.

Otherwise, they go mad.

And who was it
that filled your life, Monty?

- Who told you?
- It's not important.

It is to me.

Hello?

Just giving you a heads-up, Dad,

that you're gonna have to
pick us up after school.

'Cause we just found out
that, for some reason,

Denis the bus driver
got fired today.

- Are you still there, Dad?
- Yep.

No-one here knows why.

- It's a total mystery.
- Right.

Everyone's
pretty cut up about it,

mainly because they have no idea
why Denis would be fired.

Well, I will, uh...
I'll see you after school.

It's like he deliberately
wants everyone to hate us.

- Where'd he go?
- He went out the back way.

Didn't say why.

Denis'll be devastated.
Driving that bus was his life.

- Ow!
- Hey! That's assault!

- Nah. It's OK, Billy.
- Is it, Arlo?

- Is it OK?
- Hey, hi, hi, everyone.

Now, I just want to assure
all of you

that we will have
a new driver on tomorrow

and that normal services
will resume.

So thank you.

What is wrong
with your bloody school, Bevan?

You know, any idiot
can drive a bus.

- Come on.
- George! George!

Hey, this whole bus situation.

- Talk about a can of worms.
- Really?

Well, it turns out he didn't
even have a driver's licence,

let alone
a bus driver's licence.

Heads are gonna roll over this.
I can promise ya.

I should probably
get the kids home now.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course. And,
um, thanks for your help, OK?

No worries.

Uh, Mum asked me to ask you
if I could get a ride home.

Otherwise I could walk.

Sure, Billy. Climb in.

- Hi.
- Hey.

- Hi, Mum.
- Hi there.

- Thanks for bringing him home.
- No worries.

Hey, have you got a sec?

There's something
I want you to see.

Yeah, sure.

Do you mind
if I turn this down a mo?

Yeah. Yeah, sure. Whatever.

There's someone
I want you to meet.

This is Denis, our bus driver.

Denis, this is George Turner.

Yeah, hi. Welcome to my world.

I don't know
whether you got the full story,

but Denis got unfairly fired
as the bus driver.

Yeah, I got most of that.

I was wondering if you'd
write a column on Denis's behalf

about how all it takes
in a small town

is one person
with a bee in their bonnet

to totally ruin a man's life.

Can I have a quick word?

Awkward.

When you say
"ruin a man's life"...

He seems relatively happy
painting. Apart from the music.

Denis paints
when he's depressed.

- It's a form of therapy.
- So the painting is good, then?

Well, no, because Denis needs
to spend time in the community.

Yeah, but if the painting
makes him happy, then...

Look, if you don't want to
write the column, just say so.

No, it's not that -
it's just that when you say

I ruined a man's life, I think
you're taking it a bit too far.

You ruined his life?

Well, no, because it doesn't
seem ruined, to be honest.

Going back to the bit where you
said "I ruined a man's life"...

Because it was me who raised my
concerns about Denis's driving.

- Valid concerns, as it happens.
- You cost him his job!

No. I saw something that worried
me. I took it to the school.

I thought
they would talk to him.

Obviously, I had no idea
he didn't have a licence.

But, yes, I suppose
I did cost him his job.

Do I feel sorry
about that? No.

Because after what I saw,
I did not feel safe

putting my kids on the bus
with him behind the wheel.

And if people want to hate me
for that, then fine. Hell!

I'm a murderer anyway -
they may as well add this

to my list of crimes
against the...

..the... the good people of Weld.

"People talk. That's natural.

"Where there's a void, it gets
filled with speculation.

"But it's the silence that is
actually louder than any words."

OK. Yes, I'm the bad guy, again.

- Can we move on, please?
- What you did today was uncool.

That's my job as a parent -
take the cool from your life.

Yeah, well, Denis never drove
badly when he had kids on board.

- Then you were lucky.
- Matter of fact, he was...

Probably the best thing
about school.

Oh, for heaven's sake - I'm sorry for
being so concerned about your safety.

Who are you kidding, Dad?

This isn't about us.
This is about Mum.

This is all about
you still not dealing with it.

I'm dealing with it perfectly
well, thank you very...

No, you're not. You're
pushing your guilt onto us.

- That's nonsense.
- And that is you in denial.

No, this is more a three
than a one.

I mean he's in denial now,
not that he's still stage one.

I know, but today
was classic stage three -

"I couldn't save her,
but I'll save the kids."

- Dubious.
- What are you talking about?

What stage you're at, or not at.

After Mum died, Grandma Trish
gave us this article

about the Kubly
somethingy model...

- Kubly? Ku... Kubler-Ross.
- Yeah, that's the one.

To help us understand our grief.

- It didn't help at all.
- Not in the slightest.

Pretty fun trying to figure out
what stage everyone else was at.

There are fives stages of grief.
One - denial. Two - anger.

- Three - bargaining.
- Four - depression.

And five - acceptance.

I always thought it was weird
that depression's stage four,

because isn't getting depressed, like, the
first thing that happens when someone dies?

Well, yeah, unless you're Uncle
Terry, who went straight to anger

when he punched a hole
in the wall and broke his hand.

But Uncle Terry's permanently
angry about everything.

And I'm a stage three, am I?

- You were today, I reckon.
- You tend to move around a lot.

Mmm. It's kind of hard
to keep track.

Like bringing us to New Zealand.

I don't think
there's a stage for that.

Good to know.

Come on, Arlo.
We have to go!

So Dad will have
told Katie, right?

And Katie will have told Billy.

Which means Billy would have
told all his friends.

Yeah, Billy doesn't really
have any friends except me.

Yeah, true,
we do have that on our side.

- Get on.
- Sorry?

Put the helmet on.
Get on the bike.

Because you say so?

Because, trust me,
if you value your life,

you don't want to be
on the bus today.

Well, don't get on the bike.

Or just completely ignore
whatever I say.

Well, come on. Hurry up!

Come on!

I haven't got all day.

This isn't school.

See, I knew you were
one of the smart ones.

- Uh, why are we here?
- I wanted you to see.

Right. See what?

This is the land Big Mac
and his rich mates want to buy,

put a fence around it,
fill it with old people.

And why am I meant to care?

- Because you live here.
- Against my will.

And 'cause sooner or later,
you'll have to choose sides.

- Why?
- Because everyone has to.

Says you.

Look, if you don't choose
a side, you're on his side,

because that's how he gets what he
wants, by people doing nothing.

And what makes you think
I'll choose your side?

Smacking Lindsay McNamara
was a clue.

- I'm not proud of that.
- You should be.

So, what do you want from me?

- Your heart.
- Seriously disturbed.

- OK, your phone.
- Why?

- To give you my number.
- Why would I want your number?

For when you decide
what side you're on.

- Now we are forever connected.
- Or until I delete you.

Or that.

Mate, I just... I can't stress
enough how sorry I am.

- That's quite alright, Woody.
- Nah, look, I've been...

It's been eating away at me ever since
I first heard that bloody gossip.

- Hello, George.
- Constable Tom.

- Mind if I pop in for a second?
- No, no, no. Why should I?

- What?
- Mind.

No! No, why would you?

Well, I keep asking myself
the same question.

Actually...
..I'm here to reassure you...

..about things
being said about you.

- They're not true.
- Yeah, I know.

And I have the proof.

You do?

I made a few inquiries with my
colleagues across the ditch...

- Your colleagues?
- In Australia, yeah.

- The New South Wales Police?
- Yep, that's them.

What, you made inquiries
with the police about me?

Follow up what I'd been told,
in case it turned out to be true

and I had an international
incident on my hands.

But I can now state
that for a fact...

..that they had no idea what
the hell I was talking about.

Who told you the gossip about me
that turned out not to be true?

George, mate, police
never give up their sources.

- It was Siouxsie.
- Siouxsie?

Monty's daughter?

Why do I need to wear a helmet?

So you don't die if you
fall off and hit your head?

What if I want to go out
in a blaze of glory?

Falling off a scooter?

- Why are you picking on me?
- I'm not.

You rode past, no helmet.

- I'm just doing my job.
- Yeah?

Well, why aren't you
doing your job

arresting the real criminals
around here?

Ones that kill their wives for
insurance money, for example.

Glad to say
it was all nonsense, and...

..you can be rest assured

that this is not
a police matter anymore.

Oh, and on that note,
thanks for the other thing.

What other thing?

Well, the whole Denis scenario

could have gone ballistic
if not for you.

What? You mean
Denis getting fired?

I mean Denis not being qualified
for the job he was employed to do.

Your early warning
was a godsend.

Yeah. Yeah, good for you, mate.

Good for you.

No work today, just so you know.

Oh, dear. People do love Denis.

But the law is the law.
Eh, George?

Hey, stop assaulting my friend.

- We need to report her.
- No, we don't.

- But that's actual assault.
- No, it's not. It's different.

I think it's her way
of saying she respects me.

Maybe even, deep down...

- She might even like me.
- What?

She just has problems
expressing it. That's all.

She expresses herself
by punching you?

Yeah. But it's OK.
It... doesn't really hurt.

No. It's not OK. It's messed up.

Lindsay McNamara is not expressing
her love through violence.

OK, let's just say
we have an understanding.

Yeah? We'll leave it at that.

But I don't understand
your understanding.

Arlo. Arlo!

When I brought this
to your attention,

I wasn't looking
to get Denis fired.

But he has no licence.

And, therefore,
there was no other alternative.

Yeah, but maybe there's some way
he could do a bus-driving course?

- Well, yeah. Yes.
- Well, good.

But he'll never
drive a bus again.

I mean, not for this school.

There was talk
of fraud charges, alright?

Until we found out he'd done the
run for free all these years.

Now there's budgetary
implications, not to mention

the complaints about the
temporary replacement driver.

But without the fraud charges
and with an actual licence,

there must be some chance
of getting Denis reinstated.

Look, I'm sorry, George,
but this is not a road

that the school can go down.

I hear it's you
I should be unhappy with.

- Sorry?
- The whole bus fiasco.

I'm fielding all complaints the
replacement driver is a maniac.

Look, I did what I thought
was right. It turned out I was.

- The man didn't have a licence.
- I know. And I agree.

He couldn't stay on in the job.
And I was joking.

- Oh.
- Sorry.

I don't get why I should feel
guilty when apparently it's OK

for everyone to go around saying
whatever they want about me.

You mean that crap people are
saying about how your wife died?

- You've heard, obviously.
- Yes.

- From who?
- I don't know. Loads of people.

I told 'em all to pull their
heads in and stop talking crap.

- Well, thank you.
- You're welcome.

Are you OK?

For a wife-killer?

Hunky-dory. Thanks for asking.

There have been complaints
about my driving?

I heard you drive the school bus
like it's the ambulance.

There's nothing wrong with the way
I drive the ambulance, or the bus.

But you only volunteered
for the ambulance

so you could drive fast.

That's not... entirely true.

Ooh. Murderer alert.

- He's not a murderer, Hannah.
- I know that, Fiona.

- It was a joke.
- Not one of your good ones.

- George.
- Fiona.

Hannah.

- Katie.
- Hey, George.

We're mocking Fiona. Everyone
hates the new school bus driver.

- Who's the new bus driver?
- Fiona.

- Temporarily.
- Well, I'm sorry about that.

- Why are you sorry?
- You don't know?

- Know what?
- You haven't told them?

Generally when someone tells me
they've done something stupid,

- I don't spread it round.
- Well...

You have my permission
to spread it far and wide.

Let the court of public opinion
talk about that

as well as every other aspect
of my life.

'Scuse me.

Spread what?

Mr McNamara's not here.

He's right there.

His exact words were,

"If you see George Turner
coming, I'm not here."

No. No.
That's not what I said.

It doesn't matter. It's you
I want to talk to, not him.

- Me? -You told Constable Tom
the rumour about me.

I might have.

- Did you start the rumour?
- No.

Well, who told you?

What?

Monty, I don't need his likes,
dislikes or personal life.

I just... G'day, Renee.

I just need to know
which side he's on.

- Maybe he doesn't have a side.
- Nah.

Those writer types,
they always have a side.

Move your beer.

And I want to make sure
he's on mine.

And if he's not,

we can always use
the whole wife thing over him.

I only passed it on
'cause I thought

everyone else already knew.

I mean, normally,
I'm the last to hear.

- And?
- And what?

Oh, right.
You want to know who told me.

Get out of it, Monty.
Dad left me in charge. Get on.

- Get out.
- OK.

Do something else.

Hello.

Dad says it's because of you
they're here.

- Who?
- The creepy Australians.

Oh, the Turners?

Well, I did sell George the
house, if that's what you mean.

- Yeah. Why?
- Because it's my job.

Did you, like,
do a background check on them?

Why would I do that?

Because do we really want

people who killed their wives
living here?

- Sorry?
- Killed them dead.

For the insurance money.

Then ran away from the cops
and ended up here

because you sold them a house.

Really?

I know this for a fact.

- For a fact?
- That's what she said.

Well, she's 16 years old.

How could she possibly know it
"for a fact"?

Good question, and exactly
the question I asked her.

How do you know this for a fact?

- Duh. Because of who told me.
- Which was...?

Why I didn't want to tell you
in the first place.

Who was it, Monty?

OK, but...
You're not gonna like it.

Hey, Dad.

How was school today?

You mean apart from the bit
where the new bus driver

drives like a complete lunatic?

- Great work, Dad.
- How was your day, Arlo?

It was OK.

You know
what I've been doing today?

- Writing?
- I wish.

No, I've been tracking down
the source of the rumour

about how
we're hiding here because

I murdered your mother
for the insurance money.

What?!

That was the gossip
you were talking about?

- People actually believe that?
- Some did.

Man, these people
need to get lives.

Any idea where that rumour
might have come from, Arlo?

I'm really sorry.

OK? I... I panicked.

We want to know why
you and your stupid sister

don't just go back to Aussie.

'Cause we like it here?

Well, no-one likes you.

And you're not welcome here.

- Maybe we can't go back.
- Why?

Why do you think?

Are you, like, hiding here?

Yeah. Maybe we're hiding here.

And that's why
we can't ever go back.

I thought you moved here
'cause your mum died.

- Maybe the two are connected.
- How?

Maybe...

..my dad killed Mum
for the insurance money.

- How could you say such a thing?
- I told you, I... I panicked.

I...I wanted her to
leave me alone and... I panicked.

- Bullcrap.
- The police couldn't prove it.

But they know he did it.

And they were making our lives
a living hell.

And so we had to move here.
But...

Trust me, Lindsay.

You don't want to mess with my
family, especially not my dad.

What, do you think
writing that stupid column

was the only way
he made his money?

Nah. We're connected, Lindsay.

To what?

To a bunch of people that you
don't want to mess with.

And did this genius plan work?

Sort of.

How could you treat the memory
of your mother like that?

I didn't know anyone
would actually believe it!

- But to tell such a lie?
- Maybe I was taking after you.

What?

Well, you and Mum
used to lie all the time,

about what you did
while she was earning money.

Remember George Turner,
the international jewel thief?

They were jokes, Arlo,
for our friends.

This was kind of a joke,
for a reason.

Yeah, Dad,
isn't an important point here

that your son is being bullied?

It's not his fault
he responded by being an idiot.

- I wasn't being an idiot.
- Hey, I'm on your side here.

I don't want you on my side.
I can deal with Lindsay.

Really? Because I am more than
happy to have a word with her.

- No!
- Guys, I've got this.

- Just... stay out of it.
- Your funeral.

Oh, so... we can make jokes
about funerals now.

- Hey!
- Well, can we? Because...

I don't know what I can
and can't say anymore.

Telling everyone
Dad's a murderer? That's a no.

Yeah, I know,
and I've said, I'm really sorry.

It's just, I've...
I've got this theory.

What theory?

It's about Mum.

What about her?

Her and Kubler-Ross.

It's like we're stuck
in stage one - denial.

That's where
you don't talk about it.

And we never, ever
talk about Mum.

It's like we're scared that one
of us is gonna burst into tears,

and... so we're just
not saying anything.

I...I don't think
that's healthy.

"Silence is where the lies grow.

"And the only way to stop the
lies growing is with the truth.

"Even when the truth is,
in some ways, worse...

"..than the lie it replaces."

This is a really dumb idea, Dad,
and none of their business.

But it is. That's the point.
It's become their business.

So it's better
they know the true story.

- But then everyone will know.
- So be it.

Least it'll be out in the open.
No room for gossip.

So who are you gonna tell?

Start with everyone
I've already spoken to

about the wrong version.

- So all the groupies, then.
- The what?

Your fan club, your harem.
Whatever you want to call them.

Oh, come on.
Even you must know what I mean.

Those women -
those ones that look at you

like you're fair game,
fresh meat.

The ones that want you, Dad.
They're not just being friendly.

They have other reasons.

No. You're seeing
way too much into it.

Am I? Whatever.

It's not a game I want to play.
So... over to you.

Just count me out of it tonight.

Fine. I will.

Hey, Woody, it's George.
I need a favour.

There's no reception here.

But there will be
once all this is

little boxes
filled with old people.

You got a thing
against old people?

No, of course not. I just...

I just think a place like this

shouldn't have a fence
around it.

It should be for everyone.

I get that.

- That mean you're on my side?
- Your side?

You're in charge, are you?

Actually, um...

It's just me, at the moment...

..working under
the cover of night.

Like a Maori Batman.

So, what do I have to do
to be on your side, then?

Come on.

Thanks, everyone, for coming
here at such short notice.

Woody clearly has
excellent powers of persuasion.

No, I just dropped your name,
and they all came running.

Anyway, I've gathered you
all here today 'cause I...

..I want you
to spread a rumour for me.

- I don't do that.
- Yeah, I know that.

But I was hoping in this case,
you'd make an exception,

because it... it's the truth,
about how Laura died.

And I figured... I figured
you should all be the...

..the first to hear the truth...

..which is, yeah,
I did kill her.

We'd been... out to lunch and
a spot of shopping, and, uh...

Laura bought shoes, of course.

Then it was time for her
to get back to work

and for me to get back to...
well, nothing much.

And as she walked away...

..I just couldn't help myself.

Hey.

Nice arse.

I spoke.

She wasn't looking.

And she got hit.

So, in effect, I did kill her.

And people should know that.

- Dad, that's... that's not true.
- Yes, it is.

- No, it isn't.
- You weren't there, Arlo.

No, but I read everything
the cops gave us.

And I listened
to everything they said to us.

- Arlo, Arlo. No.
- Dad. I don't know.

Maybe you didn't, 'cause you
were in that weird headspace.

Dad, what about the fact
that the guy was speeding?

Or what about how he ran
a red light 30 seconds earlier

and was texting while driving?

Dad, what about the fact that...

..Mum was on a pedestrian
crossing when she got hit?

It's classic stage two, Dad.

Anger. Trying to find
someone to blame.

The truth is that Mum got hit
by an idiot driving a minibus.

Not by you.

Not by Denis.

That's the truth.

Uh, and, you know,
if it helps any,

if the last words I ever heard
were "Nice arse",

I reckon I'd die a happy man.

It is the nature of small towns
to gossip, especially the men.

That is not gossip.
That is information flow.

Well, I just make sure
the rumours about me are true.

'Cause then that way,
they're not rumours.

I even started a rumour
about myself once.

- Yeah?
- Didn't catch on.

First time one of my kids
caught me at the sun beach,

all manner of stories
went around the school.

Some of them were so good,
I wish they were true.

When Denis moved
into my place, my studio,

there were all these rumours
that we were lovers.

Hey, don't worry.
No-one can see you.

- And the cops aren't gonna catch you.
- Know that for a fact, do you?

Yeah. I do, actually.

I put a GPS tracker
on Constable Tom's car.

It's at his house, which means
he's tucked up in bed.

- So, what am I meant to write?
- Uh... Something good.

Otherwise I won't let you
join my gang.

- Your gang of one?
- It's a real exclusive gang.

Ah.

That meet your high standards?

Yeah.
Yeah, you passed the audition.

Yay for me.

Want to walk me home,
Maori Batman?

Mm-hm.

Yep.

Mate, a dude with money.

A house. Even your house.

Alright. Who's good with kids.

Who has an actual talent

and isn't too shabby
on the old eyeball...

Mate, you're gold
in the gene pool of Weld.

Only two questions
as far as you're concerned.

And what are they?

How do you feel about that?

I'm not sure.

And...

Which one you gonna choose?

You're fired.

OK, let's cheers.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

"The thing about the truth

"is that once it's out there,
it is a very powerful force.

"Unstoppable, even.

"While telling the truth
is liberating,

we also have to accept
that in our lives,

"we all love a good mystery.

"And a little bit of mystery
is good for the soul."

Finished?

Yeah.

Did you tell everyone?

Yes.

I hope you know
what you're doing.

Do I ever?

'Night.

Goodnight.