Back (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #1.1 - full transcript
♪♪
♪♪
It seems to me you'd be mad
to walk away from everything
you and Suzanne
have built together.
You're right, our relationship
deserves another try.
I'm so happy you took my taxi.
You're a wise man.
No,
you're the one walking this path,
I just maybe held back
some of the brambles.
After you drop me at the airport,
you need to give that
wife of yours a call.
I will, and I'll
tell her I definitely want
to leave her for
my goddaughter Suzanne.
Thank you!
♪♪
♪♪
♪♪
Stephen, mate.
Hello.
Sausage rolls for the wake.
Thoughts and prayers,
fellow.
I've allowed three per person.
Seems about right.
They're 80g each.
Stay strong enough to allow
yourself to be weak, yeah.
I will try,
somehow, to do that.
Your old man was great.
A living legend.
I mean,
he's not any more, but...
Tough act to follow, right?
Thanks.
He fucking hated you,
you tedious shitbag.
He used to spit in your ham roll.
*BACK*
Season 01 Episode 01
Title: "Episode #1.1"
- Will you have a panini, Geoff?
- I will, Mike.
- Chorizo and brie.
- Ah!
You doing the music for
Laurie's wake tomorrow?
Yeah,
got a super '70s playlist lined up.
Feel like I need to give
him a big brother send-off.
Do you still watch Big Brother?
No, I meant because
Laurie was my big brother.
We haven't watched it
since Nadia was in it.
I never had you down as
watching Big Brother, Geoff.
- Yeah, I don't watch it, Jan.
- Oh.
Hi, checking in.
En route to Mum's.
Oh, good day, Stephen. Fancy a panini?
- No, thank you.
- Jan and I are loving the panini maker.
Highlight of the refurb.
It's a good refurb, isn't it?
All the pine.
It was expensive.
- Really expensive.
- Very costly indeed, wasn't it?
But I like to think I got it right.
People could really grow to like it.
Yes! It's really, really thorough.
And whenever I'd show Dad the
photos towards the end,
he'd just hit his morphine
button and smile, so...
Aw! Don't feel like you have to keep
it all bottled up just cos of us.
I don't. - You been to see
Laurie yet, lying at rest,
talked to him one last time?
Not technically, or actually.
- I'm not sure that I...
- You've only got till half six.
Go see him. Tell him you love him.
You weren't there
when he passed.
I was stuck in a queue
at the cash-and-carry.
The tills went literally mental.
You should go to the funeral place.
Closure's important.
For me, the fact that he's dead
already has quite a large
element of closure about it.
Aw...
_
I'm really sorry.
_
I'm so sorry. I don't even know
what language you're speaking.
He's speaking Basque,
the beautiful language
of the Basque country.
May I?
I wouldn't say I was fluent, but...
Thank you.
I got the sausage rolls for the wake!
I went to for the one up from economy.
13% pork.
So genetically closer to a cucumber.
I'm in Dad's office, love.
'End of messages.
I've been listening to your dad's
last message from the hospital.
You know, I don't think I've
got his voice recorded anywhere.
You have one saved message.
'I just rang to say I love you, Ellen.
That's all there is, really,
isn't it?
Love, family, when you actually...
Oh, shit, I've dropped my yoghurt.
Oh, fuck it all to hell!
End of messages.
Laurie to a T.
Loving his family.
Dropping is yoghurt.
- Do you want?
- I'm fine, thanks.
It's only grass, love.
Yeah, don't worry.
I just had a massive
toke on my brown inhaler.
Mum, erm, I've got a vision for
the future of the business.
Have you? - I think Dad liked
what I did with the refurb.
So I'm stepping up.
There's no-one else to fill Dad's shoes.
Cass isn't interested.
No, she's like me, creative.
So, Mum, my vision is...
I would actually say that
I'm quite creative, too.
Of course you are, sweetheart.
My vision is static caravans
in the field behind the pub.
For holidays. Four caravans,
five, maybe even six, who knows?
But most likely four.
We could really start moving forward.
I mean, they're static,
but you get my point.
Let's bury your dad first.
That's the priority.
Copy that.
Sir, sir?
Ladies and gentlemen, if there's
a doctor on board or
anyone trained in CPR,
please do make yourself
known to the cabin crew.
Hi, it's me. Can I help?
Stephen, go and see Dad's body
and tell him you love him
before it's too late.
It's really important.
This is Geoff's doing, isn't it?
No. Shit!
Geoff!
It's not just me. Cassie's
concerned, as well.
And your mum, and Mike and Jan,
and the guy on the phone-in...
You rang a phone-in about me?
Love a phone-in.
Don't know what I'd do
without phone-ins, or PornHub.
Have you seen Dad's body?
Yes! I mean, no,
but I was with him in the hospice
until he was nearly dead.
If he hadn't been talking and
eating a sweet, he'd have been dead.
I've been four times to the
funeral parlour. It's a comfort.
It's weird.
Shit! Mum's out.
Have you got your keys?
No. Maybe. I don't know.
Who always knows where their keys are?
Everyone who has a door.
Come on.
They've tried to make it look like
he's just asleep in the coffin,
but it hasn't really worked.
Well, Dad slept naked and on his
front so, in a way, I'm glad.
Mum's gone for a wicker coffin.
Reminds me of the baskets we
used to use for food in the pub.
Here we go, folks.
Dad's like a giant scampi.
Fresh from the shining sea.
Frozen from Shitty-bijan, more like.
Don't do your homework
in the pub, Stephen.
Do it at home.
It's hard to concentrate
with all the foster kids and everything.
- Be quiet! Sit down!
- Food's ready!
Go fuck yourself.
"Go fuck yourself" isn't
on the menu, Jeanette,
prawn curry is.
Little weirdo. Little shit goblin!
I guess I'm just scared of seeing his...
- His?
- Cadaver.
And fear is good.
My ancestors ran away from tigers,
all the fearless fuckers got eaten.
Don't leave things unsaid, son.
When's the last time you
told your dad you loved him?
I don't think I ever did.
- Stephen!
- It never came up.
And then there's this whole
unresolved argument you had
with him about Fred
Perry versus Andy Murray.
We did resolve that, we agreed to differ.
Was Dad still going on
about that on his deathbed?
I bet.
Look, we'll leave you to ponder.
You've got till half six,
then the funeral place shuts.
Do you have any quite strong lager?
Sure.
Hi.
Hi.
Would you mind keeping an eye on my dog?
- Not a problem.
- Thanks so much.
Your mum's sexy.
I mean your owner.
I haven't met your birth mother.
I'm sure she's lovely.
I only wish I could've done more.
You did all you could.
No-one else came forward.
- You're a good man.
- Thank you.
I just want to try to make a difference.
Another can of quite strong lager?
No, thanks.
I need to be somewhere and
say something to someone.
- Do you think she's all right?
- Who's all right?
The lady who owns this dog,
she asked me to look after it.
The sexy woman who was sitting over there.
No, didn't notice her.
Well, maybe check the toilet. I
presume she went to the toilet.
There's no-one in the toilet.
We've got one toilet, I was just in there.
There wasn't a sexy woman with me.
Well, I need to go, so
I'll leave the dog here
and I'm guessing
she'll come back for it.
You can't leave your dog here.
As I say, it's not my dog.
As far as I'm concerned, it's your dog.
Not my dog, is it?
Is that piss coming out of its basket?
That would be my guess.
Hi, sorry. Can I see my dad?
I've just closed up, Stephen, so...
But, could I just quickly...?
You can't take your cat in.
It's not my cat, it's my dog.
And it's not MY dog.
OK, I'll just miss the start.
- Of...
- Oh, nothing.
Just going to the theatre with Jill.
We don't get out as much as we'd
like to, what with the wheelchair.
I'll text her.
We can download something.
Erm... - Now, let me
remember the alarm code.
Going blank.
Don't want guess and end up
with five squad cars here.
- That's happened.
- Actually, it's fine.
By the time we get in,
you'll be even later and
I'll be aware of that while
looking at the corpse.
Clock ticking, as it were.
So, you go.
Thanks and sorry.
But thanks again.
Look, Dad, I didn't get to,
you know, say that I...
OK, first of all, I need to clarify
the Fred Perry versus Andy Murray thing.
I was talking primarily about temperament.
Perry for all his...
All right, mate?
All right?
Dog piss.
So, Dad, we never...
We both knew, didn't we,
that some things that...
Anyway, there's something
I... I need to say...
.. that I was never able to...
I can't believe Dad is gone.
I mean... Dad.
Best dad.
Gone.
Yes, "Dad".
My dad has gone.
Look, I was just...
Go ahead, don't mind me.
I was just remembering
the wonderful times...
.. with Dad.
Dear, sweet Dad.
Sorry, do I know you?
Andrew Donnelly, I'm your brother.
No, you're not.
1987, March 15th to August 6th.
I was your foster brother.
Oh! Oh, right.
You're one of those.
Yes, of course.
- I'm Stephen.
- I know.
Of course.
You carry on with what you were saying.
No, I...
It's fine.
Bye, Dad.
You meant everything to me, and
I'll love and miss you forever.
I popped into the John
Barleycorn on the way here.
First time in 30 years.
Wow. And the big refurb?
Oh, that would be a great idea.
The sooner the better.
Rip out that tired old pine.
Must be killing the walk-in trade.
- When was it last done?
- They finished last week.
Oh, right. Yeah, I mean, I
probably didn't have enough time
to take it all in.
Still surfing my memories.
- I got you a Toblerone.
- Right.
Thanks? - Toblerone, your
favourite back in the day.
"This is the Toblerone zone."
♪♪
♪♪
Who dares try to enter the Toblerone zone?
What's the password?
- Hi, Dad!
- Hey, guys!
I was wondering if you wanted to go
to Chessington World Of Adventures
- in my shiny red car.
- Yay!
You remember your time
with us very vividly.
I kept a diary,
which I've typed up and
synced across all my devices.
Don't you remember the Toblerone zone?
Erm...
Can I have some help
cleaning the beer lines?
- They're filthy.
- Yep.
Don't eat chocolate in
your bedroom, Stephen.
This is the real world, not the Beano.
♪♪
♪♪
Science can't explain everything.
Look at the Turin Shroud.
Doctors only know what
they've been taught.
Precisely. Medical science
doesn't have all the answers.
If homoeopathy works, then it works.
That's my view. - I actually think
the arnica and fentanyl did far more
to ease Laurie's pain than
the gallons of bloody morphine
they swilled down his throat.
Oh, excuse me.
Aw, it's good to let yourself cry.
No, this is a reaction.
I mean, to dog hair, not grief.
Although, obviously I'm grieving,
just not to the extent
that my eyelids swell up.
I have to say, that dog of yours
doesn't appear to be toilet trained.
It's an asthma-causing
piss and vomit machine
and there's a reason science has chosen
never to replicate that machine.
Still, she's very cute,
don't you think, Tom?
I don't like small dogs.
They're not really dogs, are they?
I mean, seeing a big, tall guy
or even a guy your size, Stephen,
walking a tiny dog, it's
emasculating, isn't it?
- No, mate, you go on.
- I'm fine. Thank you.
Oh, Cat Stevens.
The governor.
Laurie loved his '70s sounds.
Terrific time. What are
you running audio-wise?
Bluetooth speaker, got
the iPad hooked up to it,
wireless, crystal clear.
How did we manage in the old days?
Vinyl's making a comeback.
Yeah, for cunts.
You're absolutely right. They're
just useless sugar pills.
Yeah. Homeopathy's hardly reiki or
that thing with the magnets, is it?
Homeopathy's a scam, in my view.
Nice to have Andrew back, isn't it?
He was our favourite foster child.
I know, you're not meant
to have favourites,
but some of them were genuine arseholes.
He was in touch with Dad on Facebook.
Dad was on Facebook?
220 friends.
Do you not do Facebook, Stephen?
Didn't sign up at first,
thought I'd missed the boat,
then most people signed up
and it turned out I hadn't
missed the initial boat,
but I definitely have missed
that second, much larger boat.
He's done some amazing
things, haven't you, Andrew?
Laurie was very impressed, said
you were a business marvel.
What amazing things?
Oh, nothing, really. You don't
need to list them, Ellen.
He ran a cafe in Sydney,
interior designer in Lisbon, photographer,
property developer,
managed a reggae band...
- They were more heavy ska.
- A heavy ska band.
Laurie was bowled over.
When he knew he was... on the way out,
he wondered whether
Andrew might help you out
in the transition period.
Sorry, what?
While you're finding your
feet with the business.
Dad was just aware that, you know,
in London, after college,
not that you failed as a
lawyer... you didn't fail...
Most of those people got
a significant proportion
of their money back and
officially, I resigned.
I know, Dad was just thinking two
heads better than one, you know?
Stephen, sorry, you need to...
I think the dog might be dying.
Can you still shit when you're dying?
Very much so.
And you don't remember this Andrew
being fostered with you guys at all?
There were so many of the
fuckers I lost track.
Like the Sugababes.
I'm afraid your dog isn't well.
It's not actually my dog,
it's a sexy lady's dog.
Not this sexy lady.
I'm not saying I find her sexy.
I mean, I did once,
we were married, but we've both
totally moved on now and...
Do go on.
The dog's not well, you say?
I think she has pyometra, a quite
serious infection of the uterus.
We're going to need to do a scan
to confirm, but if it is pyometra,
she'll need an operation
as soon as possible.
How much is a scan?
Around £300.
And the operation would be?
Probably £1,200, plus VAT.
OK. And the alternative?
If this condition goes untreated
she'll die of septic shock,
so the alternative is to euthanize her.
- For £50.
- Plus VAT?
Yes.
Well, there's...
There's no question, is there?
- Isn't there?
- Is there?
It's up to you.
I would make no moral judgment.
Do the scan and then the
operation if you need to.
We'll keep her here and we'll be in touch.
Right. Next move, Andrew.
He can't just waltz in and
be a part of everything.
You need to go back home and assert
yourself as head of the family.
I will. I shall.
Captain Assertion.
And that was a great thing you've
just done for that little dog.
I'm very fond of the dog.
She's a very sweet little dog.
- How's the dog?
- Fuck the dog. Come on.
Like the music, lads?
- Super '70s.
- It's great.
One guy I didn't put on,
Glitter, Gary Glitter.
- Paul Francis Gadd, Esq.
- Right, for obvious reasons.
Do you want to know what I'd do to paedos?
- No, I don't.
- I would burn them alive.
Yeah, I really don't want
this discussion, Geoff.
- Not right now.
- I would happily pull the lever.
What lever? Where does a lever
come into burning someone alive?
Maybe the lever tips petrol over them
while simultaneously striking a match.
So this is some sort of Wilf Lunn
contraption for incinerating humans?
Ah! They're not human, though.
That's the whole fucking thing.
Do you want to know what I'd do
to people who batter old folk?
Drown them?
Yeah, I would.
Happily pull the lever.
Yeah, a lot easier to see how a
lever might work in that scenario.
Mmm.
What is this? What's your game?
There's no game, I promise you.
Is this a con?
Is it a Martin Guerre thing,
you've assumed this guy's identity?
The time I lived here was the
best five months of my life.
It made me able to go out and,
all modesty aside, conquer the world.
You really have put modesty quite
a long way over to the side there.
But, for all my success, I
feel there's something missing.
I need to plug back in to the mother ship.
This, here, is the closest thing
to a family I've ever had.
You, Dad...
Shut up! For fuck's sake,
stop calling him Dad!
This man is my dad, OK? Not yours.
I feel I've hit a nerve.
He wasn't your dad.
He was my fucking dad!
My dead fucking dad,
and you can't appropriate him,
however many fucking
countries you've lived in,
you massive fucking orphan.
'Fuck it all to hell.
'Message deleted.
Fuck. No, what have I done?
- How do I get it back?
- I don't think you can get it back.
- It deletes it permanently.
- What do you mean?
You must be able to get it back.
Isn't it in the Cloud?
I thought everything was in the Cloud.
Answering machine messages on
landlines aren't in the Cloud,
sort of in the same way
that Sumerian clay tablets
aren't in the Cloud.
But... it was his last message.
Mum's last link with Dad
and I've destroyed it.
Are you guys all right?
I heard shouting just now.
We're absolutely fine.
We... we were shouting with friendship.
Something terrible has happened, Ellen.
Oh, no. What?
I've accidentally deleted
Laurie's last voicemail.
- Oh.
- I'm so sorry.
No, well...
He did sound ill on it.
I should remember him as
he'd like to be remembered.
Young, ambitious, charming,
a business marvel.
You're absolutely right, Ellen.
Call me Mum, like you used to.
- Mum.
- Oh...
Is Cass around?
I've got something I need to
say, to assert to the family.
OK. - And, by the way, it was
actually me who did the deleting.
Oh, Stephen!
A dead man's final message.
Hi, Andrew.
Probably seems small and parochial
and a bit shit around here
after all your amazing travelling.
Not at all. It's exactly as I remember it.
And that's precisely what I
need in my life right now.
It has changed a bit.
There's a music festival now every summer.
It has four stages.
Like cancer.
Look, there's something I need to say.
Geoff, can you give us five minutes?
Oh, yeah, sure. I needed the loo anyway.
I'll take this.
I love how much you've travelled.
I really wish I'd travelled
more when I was young.
- You're still young.
- I'm not.
- You are.
- I'm not.
She's 36.
Look... - You will stay with us for
a while, Andrew, like Laurie wanted.
Come back to us for a bit.
Would you like me to?
I really, really would.
I mean, we all would, but I
really would, quite a lot.
No, no, no. We can't just...
That's very kind. It's like I...
Oh, fuck, yes! You're fucking
me. Yeah, fuck, right there!
Oh, my God. Oh, fuck, fuck.
Geoff! Turn it off!
It's like our dad said in
his last message, isn't it?
No, no, no, no. Not OUR dad.
All there really is
is love and family.
You sound just like him.
Oh, my God. You're going to make me come.
You're going to make me come!
Oh, God! Oh, my God! I'm coming.
Make my pussy come. Oh, yeah!
Does have a terrific tone, though.
Oh, fuck me! You're fucking me!
You're fucking me! You're fucking me!
You're fucking me! You're fucking me!
♪ Son of a bitch ♪
♪ Give me a drink ♪
♪ One more night ♪
♪ This can't be me ♪
♪ Son of a bitch ♪
♪ If I can't get clean ♪
♪ I'm gonna drink my life away ♪
♪ Hey! ♪
♪ Oooh ho oh! ♪
♪ Oooh ho ho ho oh! ♪
♪ Oooh ho ho ho ho ho oh! ♪
♪♪
It seems to me you'd be mad
to walk away from everything
you and Suzanne
have built together.
You're right, our relationship
deserves another try.
I'm so happy you took my taxi.
You're a wise man.
No,
you're the one walking this path,
I just maybe held back
some of the brambles.
After you drop me at the airport,
you need to give that
wife of yours a call.
I will, and I'll
tell her I definitely want
to leave her for
my goddaughter Suzanne.
Thank you!
♪♪
♪♪
♪♪
Stephen, mate.
Hello.
Sausage rolls for the wake.
Thoughts and prayers,
fellow.
I've allowed three per person.
Seems about right.
They're 80g each.
Stay strong enough to allow
yourself to be weak, yeah.
I will try,
somehow, to do that.
Your old man was great.
A living legend.
I mean,
he's not any more, but...
Tough act to follow, right?
Thanks.
He fucking hated you,
you tedious shitbag.
He used to spit in your ham roll.
*BACK*
Season 01 Episode 01
Title: "Episode #1.1"
- Will you have a panini, Geoff?
- I will, Mike.
- Chorizo and brie.
- Ah!
You doing the music for
Laurie's wake tomorrow?
Yeah,
got a super '70s playlist lined up.
Feel like I need to give
him a big brother send-off.
Do you still watch Big Brother?
No, I meant because
Laurie was my big brother.
We haven't watched it
since Nadia was in it.
I never had you down as
watching Big Brother, Geoff.
- Yeah, I don't watch it, Jan.
- Oh.
Hi, checking in.
En route to Mum's.
Oh, good day, Stephen. Fancy a panini?
- No, thank you.
- Jan and I are loving the panini maker.
Highlight of the refurb.
It's a good refurb, isn't it?
All the pine.
It was expensive.
- Really expensive.
- Very costly indeed, wasn't it?
But I like to think I got it right.
People could really grow to like it.
Yes! It's really, really thorough.
And whenever I'd show Dad the
photos towards the end,
he'd just hit his morphine
button and smile, so...
Aw! Don't feel like you have to keep
it all bottled up just cos of us.
I don't. - You been to see
Laurie yet, lying at rest,
talked to him one last time?
Not technically, or actually.
- I'm not sure that I...
- You've only got till half six.
Go see him. Tell him you love him.
You weren't there
when he passed.
I was stuck in a queue
at the cash-and-carry.
The tills went literally mental.
You should go to the funeral place.
Closure's important.
For me, the fact that he's dead
already has quite a large
element of closure about it.
Aw...
_
I'm really sorry.
_
I'm so sorry. I don't even know
what language you're speaking.
He's speaking Basque,
the beautiful language
of the Basque country.
May I?
I wouldn't say I was fluent, but...
Thank you.
I got the sausage rolls for the wake!
I went to for the one up from economy.
13% pork.
So genetically closer to a cucumber.
I'm in Dad's office, love.
'End of messages.
I've been listening to your dad's
last message from the hospital.
You know, I don't think I've
got his voice recorded anywhere.
You have one saved message.
'I just rang to say I love you, Ellen.
That's all there is, really,
isn't it?
Love, family, when you actually...
Oh, shit, I've dropped my yoghurt.
Oh, fuck it all to hell!
End of messages.
Laurie to a T.
Loving his family.
Dropping is yoghurt.
- Do you want?
- I'm fine, thanks.
It's only grass, love.
Yeah, don't worry.
I just had a massive
toke on my brown inhaler.
Mum, erm, I've got a vision for
the future of the business.
Have you? - I think Dad liked
what I did with the refurb.
So I'm stepping up.
There's no-one else to fill Dad's shoes.
Cass isn't interested.
No, she's like me, creative.
So, Mum, my vision is...
I would actually say that
I'm quite creative, too.
Of course you are, sweetheart.
My vision is static caravans
in the field behind the pub.
For holidays. Four caravans,
five, maybe even six, who knows?
But most likely four.
We could really start moving forward.
I mean, they're static,
but you get my point.
Let's bury your dad first.
That's the priority.
Copy that.
Sir, sir?
Ladies and gentlemen, if there's
a doctor on board or
anyone trained in CPR,
please do make yourself
known to the cabin crew.
Hi, it's me. Can I help?
Stephen, go and see Dad's body
and tell him you love him
before it's too late.
It's really important.
This is Geoff's doing, isn't it?
No. Shit!
Geoff!
It's not just me. Cassie's
concerned, as well.
And your mum, and Mike and Jan,
and the guy on the phone-in...
You rang a phone-in about me?
Love a phone-in.
Don't know what I'd do
without phone-ins, or PornHub.
Have you seen Dad's body?
Yes! I mean, no,
but I was with him in the hospice
until he was nearly dead.
If he hadn't been talking and
eating a sweet, he'd have been dead.
I've been four times to the
funeral parlour. It's a comfort.
It's weird.
Shit! Mum's out.
Have you got your keys?
No. Maybe. I don't know.
Who always knows where their keys are?
Everyone who has a door.
Come on.
They've tried to make it look like
he's just asleep in the coffin,
but it hasn't really worked.
Well, Dad slept naked and on his
front so, in a way, I'm glad.
Mum's gone for a wicker coffin.
Reminds me of the baskets we
used to use for food in the pub.
Here we go, folks.
Dad's like a giant scampi.
Fresh from the shining sea.
Frozen from Shitty-bijan, more like.
Don't do your homework
in the pub, Stephen.
Do it at home.
It's hard to concentrate
with all the foster kids and everything.
- Be quiet! Sit down!
- Food's ready!
Go fuck yourself.
"Go fuck yourself" isn't
on the menu, Jeanette,
prawn curry is.
Little weirdo. Little shit goblin!
I guess I'm just scared of seeing his...
- His?
- Cadaver.
And fear is good.
My ancestors ran away from tigers,
all the fearless fuckers got eaten.
Don't leave things unsaid, son.
When's the last time you
told your dad you loved him?
I don't think I ever did.
- Stephen!
- It never came up.
And then there's this whole
unresolved argument you had
with him about Fred
Perry versus Andy Murray.
We did resolve that, we agreed to differ.
Was Dad still going on
about that on his deathbed?
I bet.
Look, we'll leave you to ponder.
You've got till half six,
then the funeral place shuts.
Do you have any quite strong lager?
Sure.
Hi.
Hi.
Would you mind keeping an eye on my dog?
- Not a problem.
- Thanks so much.
Your mum's sexy.
I mean your owner.
I haven't met your birth mother.
I'm sure she's lovely.
I only wish I could've done more.
You did all you could.
No-one else came forward.
- You're a good man.
- Thank you.
I just want to try to make a difference.
Another can of quite strong lager?
No, thanks.
I need to be somewhere and
say something to someone.
- Do you think she's all right?
- Who's all right?
The lady who owns this dog,
she asked me to look after it.
The sexy woman who was sitting over there.
No, didn't notice her.
Well, maybe check the toilet. I
presume she went to the toilet.
There's no-one in the toilet.
We've got one toilet, I was just in there.
There wasn't a sexy woman with me.
Well, I need to go, so
I'll leave the dog here
and I'm guessing
she'll come back for it.
You can't leave your dog here.
As I say, it's not my dog.
As far as I'm concerned, it's your dog.
Not my dog, is it?
Is that piss coming out of its basket?
That would be my guess.
Hi, sorry. Can I see my dad?
I've just closed up, Stephen, so...
But, could I just quickly...?
You can't take your cat in.
It's not my cat, it's my dog.
And it's not MY dog.
OK, I'll just miss the start.
- Of...
- Oh, nothing.
Just going to the theatre with Jill.
We don't get out as much as we'd
like to, what with the wheelchair.
I'll text her.
We can download something.
Erm... - Now, let me
remember the alarm code.
Going blank.
Don't want guess and end up
with five squad cars here.
- That's happened.
- Actually, it's fine.
By the time we get in,
you'll be even later and
I'll be aware of that while
looking at the corpse.
Clock ticking, as it were.
So, you go.
Thanks and sorry.
But thanks again.
Look, Dad, I didn't get to,
you know, say that I...
OK, first of all, I need to clarify
the Fred Perry versus Andy Murray thing.
I was talking primarily about temperament.
Perry for all his...
All right, mate?
All right?
Dog piss.
So, Dad, we never...
We both knew, didn't we,
that some things that...
Anyway, there's something
I... I need to say...
.. that I was never able to...
I can't believe Dad is gone.
I mean... Dad.
Best dad.
Gone.
Yes, "Dad".
My dad has gone.
Look, I was just...
Go ahead, don't mind me.
I was just remembering
the wonderful times...
.. with Dad.
Dear, sweet Dad.
Sorry, do I know you?
Andrew Donnelly, I'm your brother.
No, you're not.
1987, March 15th to August 6th.
I was your foster brother.
Oh! Oh, right.
You're one of those.
Yes, of course.
- I'm Stephen.
- I know.
Of course.
You carry on with what you were saying.
No, I...
It's fine.
Bye, Dad.
You meant everything to me, and
I'll love and miss you forever.
I popped into the John
Barleycorn on the way here.
First time in 30 years.
Wow. And the big refurb?
Oh, that would be a great idea.
The sooner the better.
Rip out that tired old pine.
Must be killing the walk-in trade.
- When was it last done?
- They finished last week.
Oh, right. Yeah, I mean, I
probably didn't have enough time
to take it all in.
Still surfing my memories.
- I got you a Toblerone.
- Right.
Thanks? - Toblerone, your
favourite back in the day.
"This is the Toblerone zone."
♪♪
♪♪
Who dares try to enter the Toblerone zone?
What's the password?
- Hi, Dad!
- Hey, guys!
I was wondering if you wanted to go
to Chessington World Of Adventures
- in my shiny red car.
- Yay!
You remember your time
with us very vividly.
I kept a diary,
which I've typed up and
synced across all my devices.
Don't you remember the Toblerone zone?
Erm...
Can I have some help
cleaning the beer lines?
- They're filthy.
- Yep.
Don't eat chocolate in
your bedroom, Stephen.
This is the real world, not the Beano.
♪♪
♪♪
Science can't explain everything.
Look at the Turin Shroud.
Doctors only know what
they've been taught.
Precisely. Medical science
doesn't have all the answers.
If homoeopathy works, then it works.
That's my view. - I actually think
the arnica and fentanyl did far more
to ease Laurie's pain than
the gallons of bloody morphine
they swilled down his throat.
Oh, excuse me.
Aw, it's good to let yourself cry.
No, this is a reaction.
I mean, to dog hair, not grief.
Although, obviously I'm grieving,
just not to the extent
that my eyelids swell up.
I have to say, that dog of yours
doesn't appear to be toilet trained.
It's an asthma-causing
piss and vomit machine
and there's a reason science has chosen
never to replicate that machine.
Still, she's very cute,
don't you think, Tom?
I don't like small dogs.
They're not really dogs, are they?
I mean, seeing a big, tall guy
or even a guy your size, Stephen,
walking a tiny dog, it's
emasculating, isn't it?
- No, mate, you go on.
- I'm fine. Thank you.
Oh, Cat Stevens.
The governor.
Laurie loved his '70s sounds.
Terrific time. What are
you running audio-wise?
Bluetooth speaker, got
the iPad hooked up to it,
wireless, crystal clear.
How did we manage in the old days?
Vinyl's making a comeback.
Yeah, for cunts.
You're absolutely right. They're
just useless sugar pills.
Yeah. Homeopathy's hardly reiki or
that thing with the magnets, is it?
Homeopathy's a scam, in my view.
Nice to have Andrew back, isn't it?
He was our favourite foster child.
I know, you're not meant
to have favourites,
but some of them were genuine arseholes.
He was in touch with Dad on Facebook.
Dad was on Facebook?
220 friends.
Do you not do Facebook, Stephen?
Didn't sign up at first,
thought I'd missed the boat,
then most people signed up
and it turned out I hadn't
missed the initial boat,
but I definitely have missed
that second, much larger boat.
He's done some amazing
things, haven't you, Andrew?
Laurie was very impressed, said
you were a business marvel.
What amazing things?
Oh, nothing, really. You don't
need to list them, Ellen.
He ran a cafe in Sydney,
interior designer in Lisbon, photographer,
property developer,
managed a reggae band...
- They were more heavy ska.
- A heavy ska band.
Laurie was bowled over.
When he knew he was... on the way out,
he wondered whether
Andrew might help you out
in the transition period.
Sorry, what?
While you're finding your
feet with the business.
Dad was just aware that, you know,
in London, after college,
not that you failed as a
lawyer... you didn't fail...
Most of those people got
a significant proportion
of their money back and
officially, I resigned.
I know, Dad was just thinking two
heads better than one, you know?
Stephen, sorry, you need to...
I think the dog might be dying.
Can you still shit when you're dying?
Very much so.
And you don't remember this Andrew
being fostered with you guys at all?
There were so many of the
fuckers I lost track.
Like the Sugababes.
I'm afraid your dog isn't well.
It's not actually my dog,
it's a sexy lady's dog.
Not this sexy lady.
I'm not saying I find her sexy.
I mean, I did once,
we were married, but we've both
totally moved on now and...
Do go on.
The dog's not well, you say?
I think she has pyometra, a quite
serious infection of the uterus.
We're going to need to do a scan
to confirm, but if it is pyometra,
she'll need an operation
as soon as possible.
How much is a scan?
Around £300.
And the operation would be?
Probably £1,200, plus VAT.
OK. And the alternative?
If this condition goes untreated
she'll die of septic shock,
so the alternative is to euthanize her.
- For £50.
- Plus VAT?
Yes.
Well, there's...
There's no question, is there?
- Isn't there?
- Is there?
It's up to you.
I would make no moral judgment.
Do the scan and then the
operation if you need to.
We'll keep her here and we'll be in touch.
Right. Next move, Andrew.
He can't just waltz in and
be a part of everything.
You need to go back home and assert
yourself as head of the family.
I will. I shall.
Captain Assertion.
And that was a great thing you've
just done for that little dog.
I'm very fond of the dog.
She's a very sweet little dog.
- How's the dog?
- Fuck the dog. Come on.
Like the music, lads?
- Super '70s.
- It's great.
One guy I didn't put on,
Glitter, Gary Glitter.
- Paul Francis Gadd, Esq.
- Right, for obvious reasons.
Do you want to know what I'd do to paedos?
- No, I don't.
- I would burn them alive.
Yeah, I really don't want
this discussion, Geoff.
- Not right now.
- I would happily pull the lever.
What lever? Where does a lever
come into burning someone alive?
Maybe the lever tips petrol over them
while simultaneously striking a match.
So this is some sort of Wilf Lunn
contraption for incinerating humans?
Ah! They're not human, though.
That's the whole fucking thing.
Do you want to know what I'd do
to people who batter old folk?
Drown them?
Yeah, I would.
Happily pull the lever.
Yeah, a lot easier to see how a
lever might work in that scenario.
Mmm.
What is this? What's your game?
There's no game, I promise you.
Is this a con?
Is it a Martin Guerre thing,
you've assumed this guy's identity?
The time I lived here was the
best five months of my life.
It made me able to go out and,
all modesty aside, conquer the world.
You really have put modesty quite
a long way over to the side there.
But, for all my success, I
feel there's something missing.
I need to plug back in to the mother ship.
This, here, is the closest thing
to a family I've ever had.
You, Dad...
Shut up! For fuck's sake,
stop calling him Dad!
This man is my dad, OK? Not yours.
I feel I've hit a nerve.
He wasn't your dad.
He was my fucking dad!
My dead fucking dad,
and you can't appropriate him,
however many fucking
countries you've lived in,
you massive fucking orphan.
'Fuck it all to hell.
'Message deleted.
Fuck. No, what have I done?
- How do I get it back?
- I don't think you can get it back.
- It deletes it permanently.
- What do you mean?
You must be able to get it back.
Isn't it in the Cloud?
I thought everything was in the Cloud.
Answering machine messages on
landlines aren't in the Cloud,
sort of in the same way
that Sumerian clay tablets
aren't in the Cloud.
But... it was his last message.
Mum's last link with Dad
and I've destroyed it.
Are you guys all right?
I heard shouting just now.
We're absolutely fine.
We... we were shouting with friendship.
Something terrible has happened, Ellen.
Oh, no. What?
I've accidentally deleted
Laurie's last voicemail.
- Oh.
- I'm so sorry.
No, well...
He did sound ill on it.
I should remember him as
he'd like to be remembered.
Young, ambitious, charming,
a business marvel.
You're absolutely right, Ellen.
Call me Mum, like you used to.
- Mum.
- Oh...
Is Cass around?
I've got something I need to
say, to assert to the family.
OK. - And, by the way, it was
actually me who did the deleting.
Oh, Stephen!
A dead man's final message.
Hi, Andrew.
Probably seems small and parochial
and a bit shit around here
after all your amazing travelling.
Not at all. It's exactly as I remember it.
And that's precisely what I
need in my life right now.
It has changed a bit.
There's a music festival now every summer.
It has four stages.
Like cancer.
Look, there's something I need to say.
Geoff, can you give us five minutes?
Oh, yeah, sure. I needed the loo anyway.
I'll take this.
I love how much you've travelled.
I really wish I'd travelled
more when I was young.
- You're still young.
- I'm not.
- You are.
- I'm not.
She's 36.
Look... - You will stay with us for
a while, Andrew, like Laurie wanted.
Come back to us for a bit.
Would you like me to?
I really, really would.
I mean, we all would, but I
really would, quite a lot.
No, no, no. We can't just...
That's very kind. It's like I...
Oh, fuck, yes! You're fucking
me. Yeah, fuck, right there!
Oh, my God. Oh, fuck, fuck.
Geoff! Turn it off!
It's like our dad said in
his last message, isn't it?
No, no, no, no. Not OUR dad.
All there really is
is love and family.
You sound just like him.
Oh, my God. You're going to make me come.
You're going to make me come!
Oh, God! Oh, my God! I'm coming.
Make my pussy come. Oh, yeah!
Does have a terrific tone, though.
Oh, fuck me! You're fucking me!
You're fucking me! You're fucking me!
You're fucking me! You're fucking me!
♪ Son of a bitch ♪
♪ Give me a drink ♪
♪ One more night ♪
♪ This can't be me ♪
♪ Son of a bitch ♪
♪ If I can't get clean ♪
♪ I'm gonna drink my life away ♪
♪ Hey! ♪
♪ Oooh ho oh! ♪
♪ Oooh ho ho ho oh! ♪
♪ Oooh ho ho ho ho ho oh! ♪