Southcliffe (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Sorrow's Child - full transcript
Claire and Andrew learn that Anna was one of the victims as were Paul's wife and children. Whilst Claire cannot bear to see her daughter in the morgue Paul, consumed with guilt over his affair, goes to pieces, pouring petrol over his house and taking his niece to play on the railway lines before indulging in dangerous activities on a motorway bridge. At his wife's funeral he bans the wearing of black and insists the Wedding March be played. David explains to Anthony that, as a child, he played with Stephen Morton, who was always very odd and obsessed with creatures on the marshes. He tries to interview locals, including the man next door to Morton, the pub landlord and Morton's sister but they all have little to say. It transpires that David's father died in an accident which claimed others and David was bullied as the son of a man branded a murderer. In the light of this his television interview with Andrew is damning of Southcliffe and he foolishly accuses the townsfolk of being complacent in not recognizing Morton's potential as a killer. This is not well-received and he is vilified when the report is shown on YouTube.
And now the shipping forecast
issued by the Met Office
on behalf of the Maritime
and Coastguard Agency
at 05:05 on Thursday
3rd November 2011.
She's not going to be going
in a wheelchair, is she?
How are we going to get her in the
house? Andrew won't be able to lift
her... Let's speak to a doctor,
and then we'll know, won't we?
I'm not preparing special food
for... her.
No!
Don't you tell me.
I don't want to hear.
Thanks for coming in, Paul.
I'd like you to sort out
a few family photos
you're happy to release to the press.
They'll just dig their own up,
otherwise.
We laughed at him.
Treated him like a joke.
Not funny now, is he?
Christ.
Southcliffe.
It's not that kind of place, is it?
Is now.
Paul? Paul?
Anything you can tell us?
Strider! Get down!
Down!
Get down!
The flatness and the light
does weird things to your eyes.
We used to scare ourselves
with these stories
about these creatures
who used to run across the marshes.
Striders.
I bet it was great as a kid.
It was shit as a kid.
It's shit now.
What was her name?
Salter.
Anna Salter.
Yeah, Salter's quite a common name
around here.
How old was she?
I don't know. 16?
17?
She was still alive when they found
her. Some old boy walking his dog.
And then she died in hospital.
Mm, I've got something for you.
It's his route.
Every kill he made.
Mate...
Right.
Oh, nice one. Where did you get
this? My Beeb contact.
So, he starts off at home.
Does Mum and the next-door neighbour.
And then it looks like
he makes his way into town.
Yeah, personal stuff's done,
then it's random from then on.
Mm, like Derrick Bird. You reckon?
Yeah, open season. Just a matter
of how many he takes down with him.
What was he like?
I can hardly remember. We were kids.
What? No, um... cat torturing?
Nothing like that?
No.
This is a hell of a lot
of shop floor to walk.
If we're going to find our story,
we'd better make a move.
Ahead of the pack. Nice.
They should pull these places down.
Just dropping off
some provisions, Officer.
Sorry, sir.
Is, um... John in next door?
John?
Mr Price. We've got his provisions.
Stan, you mean?
Yeah, Stan.
What sort of man was he like?
Kept hisself to hisself.
His mother was an invalid,
wasn't she?
Must have...
Must have been a bit of a handful.
Mm. I suppose.
Arguments?
Liked a bit of a barney, did he?
You must have heard things.
Not really, no. Right.
There you go.
You do understand
what Morton just did, don't you?
Well, yes.
David, I think Mr Price does
understand. I really do.
Stephen Morton shoots
and kills 15 people.
Destroys the lives
of God knows how many others.
And he lives next door to you
and you know nothing?
I'm so sorry.
No, I'm sorry, Mr Price.
Dad?
Dad?
Dad?
She's up early.
Thought I'd go for a walk. A run.
Hello?
Just one... Yeah, just a second.
It's the hospital.
They're asking if we're sure
we don't want to go and see her.
Anna?
No.
Do you? I don't.
No.
No, thank you.
Sorry.
Horrific events which unfolded
yesterday
in the quiet market town of
Southcliffe
have shocked people to the core
across the nation.
Our thoughts are with
the families and friends...
of all those who have been affected
by this appalling tragedy.
Cheers.
My house used to be at the end
of that road. It's a roundabout now.
Madge is circling.
Yeah, well, come tomorrow,
"15 dead in new Hungerford"
isn't going to cut it, is it?
Yeah, thank you, Anthony.
Manage to get hold of that young
soldier? What's his name? Cooper?
Yeah, working on it. What did
the locals manage to dig up?
Ha! "Killer Stephen Morton
systematically sets about
"robbing a sleepy English town
of its womenfolk."
Womenfolk? Beautiful!
They manage to make
a shooting spree sound cosy.
It says there's a sister.
She isn't talking.
That's right. He did have a sister.
You think we can get her?
Mrs Saunders? Mary?
Not talking.
My name's David Whitehead.
Yeah, I know who you are.
I grew up in Southcliffe.
I'm... I'm a friend...
I was a friend of Stephen's.
Didn't know he had any real friends.
Look, I'm...
I'm so sorry.
Yeah.
I used to, er... I used to see you
around then sometimes, didn't I?
Me? I don't know. I don't think so.
Got out as soon as I could.
I remember you had,
er... chicken sheds.
Stephen used to work there a lot,
didn't he?
Yeah, he hated it. Poor Stephen.
Did you, um... stay in touch
with him?
Er...
No, no, I didn't.
He wasn't a bad boy.
We had a tough life.
Lots of people have hard lives.
They don't go on shooting sprees.
Well, it wasn't my Stephen,
not the Stephen I knew.
Except it was, wasn't it?
I'm in mourning too, you know!
It was my mum! He was my brother!
I said, I'm not talking!
What do you think made him do it,
Alan?
He just flipped.
Just gave into it.
Gave into what?
The shittiness of it all.
You think you wouldn't?
What, do what he did?
I've seen it. Normal blokes.
Oman.
Bosnia. Croatia.
Happens every day.
That's war. That's different.
There's always a war.
What do you think Chris will do now?
Stay with his mum and dad
till he's back on his feet.
Then go back overseas.
Be surprised if that'll happen.
Why not?
He's a perfect soldier.
He's got nothing to lose.
I pity the poor bastards
on the receiving end.
Shit like this just happens.
You get over it.
Move on.
Stop wasting your time
looking for answers.
We don't need another Whitehead
fucking things up round here.
Jimmy. Danny.
Cheers, Al.
Do some glasses, will you, Dan?
Big mates, were they,
Alan and Stephen?
Not interested.
Well, in case you remember something.
It's not something
we want to remember, is it?
Not sure you've got the choice.
Day two. Told us their story.
Now they want us to fuck off home.
I don't know. I mean,
on Raoul Moat, they brought us teas.
They're all fucked anyway.
It's not like this is ever going to
go away.
Madge is asking
for a live broadcast.
She didn't say anything to me.
Prime time.
Oh, Jesus, Anthony!
Our man from Southcliffe, to camera,
personal. You know it makes sense.
No, it doesn't make sense.
What are you talking about, mate?
Look, you know this place.
You know the people. Reel them in.
They're nothing to do with me.
You OK, boss?
Yeah, I'm fine.
I mean, if you're having problems
being back here... I'm really fine.
So, step up.
Say you love me.
Say you don't want anyone else.
Ooh. That got him.
Didn't think she'd come up
with that one, eh?
Oi. Where are you going?
Say you love me!
Sarah, what are you doing?
Say it.
You can't say it, can you?
This is stupid.
A train's going to come.
I can hear it singing on the line.
Yeah, you'll get yourself killed.
Get up.
Say it.
All right, I love you.
Mean it.
I love you, I love you, I love you!
Get up, get up, get up, get up.
I love you.
I don't want anyone else, just you.
Oh, that's a funny one.
Her hippy parents.
Never took any interest in her
or the kids.
Is that Italy?
She wanted to see
if the Pope really existed.
Here's a better one.
Come on. Let's put it
with the possibles.
Lucy went to sleep.
That's right, sweetheart.
She did.
Uncle Paul said she won't wake up.
We just best let her sleep, eh?
Like Gramps?
Yeah. Just like Gramps.
Night-night.
Night.
Paul, let us decide what Rosie knows
and doesn't know, yeah?
You can't lie to her, mate.
Kids understand stuff like that.
She's not stupid.
Just leave it to us, yeah?
He feels guilty.
He should. He treated her like dirt.
That's a terrible thing to say.
He doesn't deserve this.
You're his brother. Why are you
always acting like you're better
than him?
Hey, I don't go round
having affairs with schoolgirls.
She wasn't a schoolgirl.
Huh.
He told me about your crush.
What crush?
Huh!
He said how he and Sarah
used to laugh about it,
how his big brother fancied his wife.
Sarah was a good, sweet person.
I knew you had a soft spot for
her. Nothing wrong with that.
You know, one day
I want to do it right.
I want bridesmaids.
Top hats and corsages for the boys.
A marquee, speeches. The whole bit.
You're not serious?
I am.
I want to do it properly.
That's not me, Sar.
I want you to stand up
and make it public.
I don't need that. I'm my own boy.
Well done, Paul.
Here.
Heh.
What if they drop the coffin?
Oh... they won't.
They have to remember
to take their hats off to get in.
The doorway's really low.
It'll be fine.
Yeah.
You're looking very sharp.
I couldn't do any of this
without you.
I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry.
Crossed wires or something.
No, it's... it's all right.
It's all right.
What are you doing?
Paul, I'm so sorry.
I said no black, no mourning.
Paul, Sarah was very...
Take this off or leave!
Hello. Um... my name's Andrew Salter.
I'm... I'm here to see my daughter,
Anna, in the morgue.
Yeah, course.
Um... if you just want to head
through the double doors on the
left-hand side.
It's right down there, OK?
Thank you very much.
Andrew.
David. Hey.
I saw you on television.
Yeah, I'm... I'm one of the vultures.
It's my job to let
the rest of the world know
what's been happening here.
Well, people need to know.
I used to wonder what
happened to you.
Mum took me back to London.
Place suited her better.
Listen, I'm so sorry
about your dad, yeah?
Thank you. Thank you.
I-I never said it before,
cos you don't when you're a kid,
do you?
Yeah, well, it was a long time ago.
I'm... I'm sorry about Anna.
She was a lovely girl.
It's a shame you never met her.
I'm gonna... I'm gonna see her now.
All right, well,
maybe I'll catch you later.
No. Why don't you come with me?
I'd like you to.
Hello, my darling.
Hello, my beautiful girl.
How much does your daddy love you?
Eh?
How much does your daddy love you?
Isn't she beautiful?
Really. I know I'm her dad.
But isn't she beautiful?
Yeah.
I love you, darling.
No!
Andrew... what are you doing?
We're just developing
some film.
What...? What film?
Tell her it's just a hobby.
Is someone in there with you?
It's David, Claire.
David Whitehead.
Andrew!
It's pictures of Anna.
You... Andrew!
Andrew!
It's just pictures of Anna.
What are you doing here?
What...? What do you want?
What...?
It's just pictures. Look.
Love, you took photographs
of our daughter?
But it's just... It's Anna.
No... Andrew!
No! Just take...
No, no, please. No.
No!
No! No!
It's like I'm not really here.
I can't even feel things
with my hands properly.
None of it makes sense, Andrew.
Never will, will it?
Do you have friends you can talk to?
Of course we have friends.
We have friends.
I wouldn't know what to say to them.
You're doing OK right now.
Well, you're a journalist.
You know all the right
questions to ask.
Can I interview you, Andrew?
You know I might use it?
Well, that's your job.
Well, thank you.
You ready?
I feel... I feel nervous now.
Embarrassed.
Oh, just, um...
Er, tell me about Anna.
Anna was...
She was sunshine.
From the day she was born.
She was a real thinker.
They say that you teach your
children, but with Anna
it was the other way round.
She used to teach me.
A bright girl.
Er... headed for uni, or...?
No, see, that's the thing.
She wanted to travel the world.
She wanted to... see everywhere.
Really be there, you know,
not... not just read about it.
Claire always said it was my fault
she was like she was.
Cos I used to hold her up,
to watch the trains.
She used to ask me where
they were going.
So, she was...
she was leaving home, was she?
What?
Was she leaving home?
Yeah.
Did Anna know Stephen?
Sorry?
Did Anna know Stephen Morton?
I don't know.
Why are you asking me that?
Well, people knew Stephen.
People, you know, saw him around.
Didn't anybody... read the signs?
There weren't any signs.
Andrew...
Your wife looked after Queenie.
Didn't she ever come home
and say... something about Stephen,
something she'd heard or seen?
No, I told you, there weren't any
signs.
Yeah, nobody ever sees anything
in Southcliffe, do they?
No, that's not fair.
This is a close-knit community.
Yeah. Yeah, like it was when
my dad died.
Oh, David. That was a bad affair.
Yeah, too right it was.
But things are different now.
Do you honestly believe that?
Yeah. Yeah, I do.
You all right?
Yes. Key, please.
There's a man to see you.
Looks like police.
All right. Thank you.
Hello. You wanted to see me?
Ah, Mr Whitehead.
Ex-Superintendent Marsden.
Right. You're not part
of the investigation?
Better organised if I was.
I've got some information
I think you might be interested in.
I knew your father.
Really? Did you know him well?
Oh, we had the odd pint from time to
time. He was a good man.
I liked him.
Yeah, so did I.
I intend to go public
with all of this.
With all of what?
I heard the shot, Mr Whitehead.
I know my guns.
Glock 17. Standard AFO issue.
You think the...
You think the police shot him?
I think Morton escaped
and the police covered up.
Why would they fake his death?
Because they didn't want
the general public to know
that a serial killer
was still at large.
Right, you don't think
that's a little bit paranoid?
I mean... Sorry.
Er...
They blamed your father
for that chemical plant mess.
They covered up.
Yeah, I remember.
The town closed ranks...
just like they're doing now.
I'm just saying it's... it's
very unlikely.
He's still alive, Mr Whitehead,
but nobody wants to say anything.
Right, well, er, thanks for popping
by. I'll, er, let you know.
I'm disappointed.
Expected more.
Hm.
You're not your father's son.
People don't commit mass murder
in a town like this.
People don't commit mass
murder in...
People don't commit mass murder
in a town like this.
'We are privileged to count
chief reporter David Whitehead
'as a colleague.
'David has a very personal
connection to Southcliffe.
'He was born and grew up there,
it's a place about
which he cares deeply,
'and he knows many of those directly
involved in the recent tragic events.
'We go over to him now live
at the town centre for
a unique perspective.'
I come from this place,
a sleepy little English market town.
People don't commit mass murder
in a town like this.
Close-knit, law-abiding community.
Uncomplicated souls.
Good folk.
Anglo-Saxon England.
That's what it says on your
television.
Is that what you think you are?
It isn't what I remember.
It's not what I see now.
On All Souls' Day,
Stephen Morton executed 15 people.
How come good old England
didn't read the signs?
How come good folk
didn't put two and two together?
What the fuck is he doing?
Perhaps because these tragedies
are hard-wired in your DNA.
Maybe you wished it on yourselves.
Perhaps because good folk
don't really give a shit.
Yeah, they've cut us.
What the hell are you doing, David?
What the fuck was that?
I'm telling the truth. Isn't that
what we're supposed to do?
I think I'll head up.
It was beautiful.
It was really beautiful.
Pint of the Shep's, please.
Don't do Shep's, only beer.
Fucking hilarious.
It's OK. And a pie.
No pies.
Look, we'll go somewhere else.
Time you were on your way, lads.
Just give us a break.
Give you a break?
You fuck off out,
you fucking snoops!
Sorry, do you think fifteen people
are gonna get shot
in your poxy little town,
and no-one's gonna come?
You're the arsehole who's
gonna be reading the Sun
over your egg and chips tomorrow!
Don't tell me to fuck off!
David, calm down.
Yeah! Good white folk!
Team GB!
You didn't see it coming, did you?
All so fucking smart.
You never fucking saw it coming!
David...
Cos you're pig-thick
and you don't give a shit!
As long as you've got your pint
and your Beckham baseball cap.
I'd have pulled the trigger myself,
wiped the whole fucking lot of you
off the face of the Earth.
You asked for it!
David... You deserve it!
Stephen Morton did you a favour!
Fuck off out!
I fucking meant it. Fuck 'em all.
You're supposed to report the news,
not be it.
Hi, Madge.
Er... yeah, yeah.
We're headed back now.
Yeah, I know. I know.
Oh, Christ.
Just give it here. Give it to me.
She hung up.
Your little performance
at the pub has gone viral.
Somebody YouTubed it.
- '..off the face of the Earth!
- You asked for it!'
'David...'
'You deserve it!'
'Well, extraordinary stuff.
'That was an excerpt
'from journalist David Whitehead's
inexplicable rant recorded on...'
Mate, I've still got a life.
Look, you've still got a life. Just.
You know, we're lucky.
Until some nutter comes along
and rapes the wife
and burns the house down
with the kids in it.
Nice. Charming.
You know what, David? You need
to square things with Madge.
Oh, fuck! Just look at yourself,
up on your hind legs.
This is me, all right?
It's the first honest shit
anyone's said about this.
They'd better learn to swallow.
You know what, mate?
You need to go home
and sleep this off.
Can I get two more?
Give us a kiss, then, Mouse.
Ah!
Go on, go on, go on, go on.
Quickly. Seatbelt on.
Seatbelt, Lucy.
I, um...
I slept downstairs,
didn't want to wake you.
Do I see you tonight?
Yeah, sure.
Look, I can't keep this smile going
much longer, Paul.
It's OK.
It's OK. It's over.
Are you sure about that?
Can we go home now? I'm tired.
OK.
This isn't the way home.
It's a new way.
Is a train coming?
You know how you can tell?
Listen.
I can't hear anything.
Now.
It's singing.
I can hear it.
It's coming!
Uncle Paul, it is coming.
We're just really concerned.
Yeah, I know. I know.
What are you doing, Paul?
What the fuck
do you think you're doing?
I dunno, Geoff. I really don't know.
Maybe I'm looking for closure.
That's what you're meant to do,
isn't it?
Well, you look for it
somewhere else.
issued by the Met Office
on behalf of the Maritime
and Coastguard Agency
at 05:05 on Thursday
3rd November 2011.
She's not going to be going
in a wheelchair, is she?
How are we going to get her in the
house? Andrew won't be able to lift
her... Let's speak to a doctor,
and then we'll know, won't we?
I'm not preparing special food
for... her.
No!
Don't you tell me.
I don't want to hear.
Thanks for coming in, Paul.
I'd like you to sort out
a few family photos
you're happy to release to the press.
They'll just dig their own up,
otherwise.
We laughed at him.
Treated him like a joke.
Not funny now, is he?
Christ.
Southcliffe.
It's not that kind of place, is it?
Is now.
Paul? Paul?
Anything you can tell us?
Strider! Get down!
Down!
Get down!
The flatness and the light
does weird things to your eyes.
We used to scare ourselves
with these stories
about these creatures
who used to run across the marshes.
Striders.
I bet it was great as a kid.
It was shit as a kid.
It's shit now.
What was her name?
Salter.
Anna Salter.
Yeah, Salter's quite a common name
around here.
How old was she?
I don't know. 16?
17?
She was still alive when they found
her. Some old boy walking his dog.
And then she died in hospital.
Mm, I've got something for you.
It's his route.
Every kill he made.
Mate...
Right.
Oh, nice one. Where did you get
this? My Beeb contact.
So, he starts off at home.
Does Mum and the next-door neighbour.
And then it looks like
he makes his way into town.
Yeah, personal stuff's done,
then it's random from then on.
Mm, like Derrick Bird. You reckon?
Yeah, open season. Just a matter
of how many he takes down with him.
What was he like?
I can hardly remember. We were kids.
What? No, um... cat torturing?
Nothing like that?
No.
This is a hell of a lot
of shop floor to walk.
If we're going to find our story,
we'd better make a move.
Ahead of the pack. Nice.
They should pull these places down.
Just dropping off
some provisions, Officer.
Sorry, sir.
Is, um... John in next door?
John?
Mr Price. We've got his provisions.
Stan, you mean?
Yeah, Stan.
What sort of man was he like?
Kept hisself to hisself.
His mother was an invalid,
wasn't she?
Must have...
Must have been a bit of a handful.
Mm. I suppose.
Arguments?
Liked a bit of a barney, did he?
You must have heard things.
Not really, no. Right.
There you go.
You do understand
what Morton just did, don't you?
Well, yes.
David, I think Mr Price does
understand. I really do.
Stephen Morton shoots
and kills 15 people.
Destroys the lives
of God knows how many others.
And he lives next door to you
and you know nothing?
I'm so sorry.
No, I'm sorry, Mr Price.
Dad?
Dad?
Dad?
She's up early.
Thought I'd go for a walk. A run.
Hello?
Just one... Yeah, just a second.
It's the hospital.
They're asking if we're sure
we don't want to go and see her.
Anna?
No.
Do you? I don't.
No.
No, thank you.
Sorry.
Horrific events which unfolded
yesterday
in the quiet market town of
Southcliffe
have shocked people to the core
across the nation.
Our thoughts are with
the families and friends...
of all those who have been affected
by this appalling tragedy.
Cheers.
My house used to be at the end
of that road. It's a roundabout now.
Madge is circling.
Yeah, well, come tomorrow,
"15 dead in new Hungerford"
isn't going to cut it, is it?
Yeah, thank you, Anthony.
Manage to get hold of that young
soldier? What's his name? Cooper?
Yeah, working on it. What did
the locals manage to dig up?
Ha! "Killer Stephen Morton
systematically sets about
"robbing a sleepy English town
of its womenfolk."
Womenfolk? Beautiful!
They manage to make
a shooting spree sound cosy.
It says there's a sister.
She isn't talking.
That's right. He did have a sister.
You think we can get her?
Mrs Saunders? Mary?
Not talking.
My name's David Whitehead.
Yeah, I know who you are.
I grew up in Southcliffe.
I'm... I'm a friend...
I was a friend of Stephen's.
Didn't know he had any real friends.
Look, I'm...
I'm so sorry.
Yeah.
I used to, er... I used to see you
around then sometimes, didn't I?
Me? I don't know. I don't think so.
Got out as soon as I could.
I remember you had,
er... chicken sheds.
Stephen used to work there a lot,
didn't he?
Yeah, he hated it. Poor Stephen.
Did you, um... stay in touch
with him?
Er...
No, no, I didn't.
He wasn't a bad boy.
We had a tough life.
Lots of people have hard lives.
They don't go on shooting sprees.
Well, it wasn't my Stephen,
not the Stephen I knew.
Except it was, wasn't it?
I'm in mourning too, you know!
It was my mum! He was my brother!
I said, I'm not talking!
What do you think made him do it,
Alan?
He just flipped.
Just gave into it.
Gave into what?
The shittiness of it all.
You think you wouldn't?
What, do what he did?
I've seen it. Normal blokes.
Oman.
Bosnia. Croatia.
Happens every day.
That's war. That's different.
There's always a war.
What do you think Chris will do now?
Stay with his mum and dad
till he's back on his feet.
Then go back overseas.
Be surprised if that'll happen.
Why not?
He's a perfect soldier.
He's got nothing to lose.
I pity the poor bastards
on the receiving end.
Shit like this just happens.
You get over it.
Move on.
Stop wasting your time
looking for answers.
We don't need another Whitehead
fucking things up round here.
Jimmy. Danny.
Cheers, Al.
Do some glasses, will you, Dan?
Big mates, were they,
Alan and Stephen?
Not interested.
Well, in case you remember something.
It's not something
we want to remember, is it?
Not sure you've got the choice.
Day two. Told us their story.
Now they want us to fuck off home.
I don't know. I mean,
on Raoul Moat, they brought us teas.
They're all fucked anyway.
It's not like this is ever going to
go away.
Madge is asking
for a live broadcast.
She didn't say anything to me.
Prime time.
Oh, Jesus, Anthony!
Our man from Southcliffe, to camera,
personal. You know it makes sense.
No, it doesn't make sense.
What are you talking about, mate?
Look, you know this place.
You know the people. Reel them in.
They're nothing to do with me.
You OK, boss?
Yeah, I'm fine.
I mean, if you're having problems
being back here... I'm really fine.
So, step up.
Say you love me.
Say you don't want anyone else.
Ooh. That got him.
Didn't think she'd come up
with that one, eh?
Oi. Where are you going?
Say you love me!
Sarah, what are you doing?
Say it.
You can't say it, can you?
This is stupid.
A train's going to come.
I can hear it singing on the line.
Yeah, you'll get yourself killed.
Get up.
Say it.
All right, I love you.
Mean it.
I love you, I love you, I love you!
Get up, get up, get up, get up.
I love you.
I don't want anyone else, just you.
Oh, that's a funny one.
Her hippy parents.
Never took any interest in her
or the kids.
Is that Italy?
She wanted to see
if the Pope really existed.
Here's a better one.
Come on. Let's put it
with the possibles.
Lucy went to sleep.
That's right, sweetheart.
She did.
Uncle Paul said she won't wake up.
We just best let her sleep, eh?
Like Gramps?
Yeah. Just like Gramps.
Night-night.
Night.
Paul, let us decide what Rosie knows
and doesn't know, yeah?
You can't lie to her, mate.
Kids understand stuff like that.
She's not stupid.
Just leave it to us, yeah?
He feels guilty.
He should. He treated her like dirt.
That's a terrible thing to say.
He doesn't deserve this.
You're his brother. Why are you
always acting like you're better
than him?
Hey, I don't go round
having affairs with schoolgirls.
She wasn't a schoolgirl.
Huh.
He told me about your crush.
What crush?
Huh!
He said how he and Sarah
used to laugh about it,
how his big brother fancied his wife.
Sarah was a good, sweet person.
I knew you had a soft spot for
her. Nothing wrong with that.
You know, one day
I want to do it right.
I want bridesmaids.
Top hats and corsages for the boys.
A marquee, speeches. The whole bit.
You're not serious?
I am.
I want to do it properly.
That's not me, Sar.
I want you to stand up
and make it public.
I don't need that. I'm my own boy.
Well done, Paul.
Here.
Heh.
What if they drop the coffin?
Oh... they won't.
They have to remember
to take their hats off to get in.
The doorway's really low.
It'll be fine.
Yeah.
You're looking very sharp.
I couldn't do any of this
without you.
I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry.
Crossed wires or something.
No, it's... it's all right.
It's all right.
What are you doing?
Paul, I'm so sorry.
I said no black, no mourning.
Paul, Sarah was very...
Take this off or leave!
Hello. Um... my name's Andrew Salter.
I'm... I'm here to see my daughter,
Anna, in the morgue.
Yeah, course.
Um... if you just want to head
through the double doors on the
left-hand side.
It's right down there, OK?
Thank you very much.
Andrew.
David. Hey.
I saw you on television.
Yeah, I'm... I'm one of the vultures.
It's my job to let
the rest of the world know
what's been happening here.
Well, people need to know.
I used to wonder what
happened to you.
Mum took me back to London.
Place suited her better.
Listen, I'm so sorry
about your dad, yeah?
Thank you. Thank you.
I-I never said it before,
cos you don't when you're a kid,
do you?
Yeah, well, it was a long time ago.
I'm... I'm sorry about Anna.
She was a lovely girl.
It's a shame you never met her.
I'm gonna... I'm gonna see her now.
All right, well,
maybe I'll catch you later.
No. Why don't you come with me?
I'd like you to.
Hello, my darling.
Hello, my beautiful girl.
How much does your daddy love you?
Eh?
How much does your daddy love you?
Isn't she beautiful?
Really. I know I'm her dad.
But isn't she beautiful?
Yeah.
I love you, darling.
No!
Andrew... what are you doing?
We're just developing
some film.
What...? What film?
Tell her it's just a hobby.
Is someone in there with you?
It's David, Claire.
David Whitehead.
Andrew!
It's pictures of Anna.
You... Andrew!
Andrew!
It's just pictures of Anna.
What are you doing here?
What...? What do you want?
What...?
It's just pictures. Look.
Love, you took photographs
of our daughter?
But it's just... It's Anna.
No... Andrew!
No! Just take...
No, no, please. No.
No!
No! No!
It's like I'm not really here.
I can't even feel things
with my hands properly.
None of it makes sense, Andrew.
Never will, will it?
Do you have friends you can talk to?
Of course we have friends.
We have friends.
I wouldn't know what to say to them.
You're doing OK right now.
Well, you're a journalist.
You know all the right
questions to ask.
Can I interview you, Andrew?
You know I might use it?
Well, that's your job.
Well, thank you.
You ready?
I feel... I feel nervous now.
Embarrassed.
Oh, just, um...
Er, tell me about Anna.
Anna was...
She was sunshine.
From the day she was born.
She was a real thinker.
They say that you teach your
children, but with Anna
it was the other way round.
She used to teach me.
A bright girl.
Er... headed for uni, or...?
No, see, that's the thing.
She wanted to travel the world.
She wanted to... see everywhere.
Really be there, you know,
not... not just read about it.
Claire always said it was my fault
she was like she was.
Cos I used to hold her up,
to watch the trains.
She used to ask me where
they were going.
So, she was...
she was leaving home, was she?
What?
Was she leaving home?
Yeah.
Did Anna know Stephen?
Sorry?
Did Anna know Stephen Morton?
I don't know.
Why are you asking me that?
Well, people knew Stephen.
People, you know, saw him around.
Didn't anybody... read the signs?
There weren't any signs.
Andrew...
Your wife looked after Queenie.
Didn't she ever come home
and say... something about Stephen,
something she'd heard or seen?
No, I told you, there weren't any
signs.
Yeah, nobody ever sees anything
in Southcliffe, do they?
No, that's not fair.
This is a close-knit community.
Yeah. Yeah, like it was when
my dad died.
Oh, David. That was a bad affair.
Yeah, too right it was.
But things are different now.
Do you honestly believe that?
Yeah. Yeah, I do.
You all right?
Yes. Key, please.
There's a man to see you.
Looks like police.
All right. Thank you.
Hello. You wanted to see me?
Ah, Mr Whitehead.
Ex-Superintendent Marsden.
Right. You're not part
of the investigation?
Better organised if I was.
I've got some information
I think you might be interested in.
I knew your father.
Really? Did you know him well?
Oh, we had the odd pint from time to
time. He was a good man.
I liked him.
Yeah, so did I.
I intend to go public
with all of this.
With all of what?
I heard the shot, Mr Whitehead.
I know my guns.
Glock 17. Standard AFO issue.
You think the...
You think the police shot him?
I think Morton escaped
and the police covered up.
Why would they fake his death?
Because they didn't want
the general public to know
that a serial killer
was still at large.
Right, you don't think
that's a little bit paranoid?
I mean... Sorry.
Er...
They blamed your father
for that chemical plant mess.
They covered up.
Yeah, I remember.
The town closed ranks...
just like they're doing now.
I'm just saying it's... it's
very unlikely.
He's still alive, Mr Whitehead,
but nobody wants to say anything.
Right, well, er, thanks for popping
by. I'll, er, let you know.
I'm disappointed.
Expected more.
Hm.
You're not your father's son.
People don't commit mass murder
in a town like this.
People don't commit mass
murder in...
People don't commit mass murder
in a town like this.
'We are privileged to count
chief reporter David Whitehead
'as a colleague.
'David has a very personal
connection to Southcliffe.
'He was born and grew up there,
it's a place about
which he cares deeply,
'and he knows many of those directly
involved in the recent tragic events.
'We go over to him now live
at the town centre for
a unique perspective.'
I come from this place,
a sleepy little English market town.
People don't commit mass murder
in a town like this.
Close-knit, law-abiding community.
Uncomplicated souls.
Good folk.
Anglo-Saxon England.
That's what it says on your
television.
Is that what you think you are?
It isn't what I remember.
It's not what I see now.
On All Souls' Day,
Stephen Morton executed 15 people.
How come good old England
didn't read the signs?
How come good folk
didn't put two and two together?
What the fuck is he doing?
Perhaps because these tragedies
are hard-wired in your DNA.
Maybe you wished it on yourselves.
Perhaps because good folk
don't really give a shit.
Yeah, they've cut us.
What the hell are you doing, David?
What the fuck was that?
I'm telling the truth. Isn't that
what we're supposed to do?
I think I'll head up.
It was beautiful.
It was really beautiful.
Pint of the Shep's, please.
Don't do Shep's, only beer.
Fucking hilarious.
It's OK. And a pie.
No pies.
Look, we'll go somewhere else.
Time you were on your way, lads.
Just give us a break.
Give you a break?
You fuck off out,
you fucking snoops!
Sorry, do you think fifteen people
are gonna get shot
in your poxy little town,
and no-one's gonna come?
You're the arsehole who's
gonna be reading the Sun
over your egg and chips tomorrow!
Don't tell me to fuck off!
David, calm down.
Yeah! Good white folk!
Team GB!
You didn't see it coming, did you?
All so fucking smart.
You never fucking saw it coming!
David...
Cos you're pig-thick
and you don't give a shit!
As long as you've got your pint
and your Beckham baseball cap.
I'd have pulled the trigger myself,
wiped the whole fucking lot of you
off the face of the Earth.
You asked for it!
David... You deserve it!
Stephen Morton did you a favour!
Fuck off out!
I fucking meant it. Fuck 'em all.
You're supposed to report the news,
not be it.
Hi, Madge.
Er... yeah, yeah.
We're headed back now.
Yeah, I know. I know.
Oh, Christ.
Just give it here. Give it to me.
She hung up.
Your little performance
at the pub has gone viral.
Somebody YouTubed it.
- '..off the face of the Earth!
- You asked for it!'
'David...'
'You deserve it!'
'Well, extraordinary stuff.
'That was an excerpt
'from journalist David Whitehead's
inexplicable rant recorded on...'
Mate, I've still got a life.
Look, you've still got a life. Just.
You know, we're lucky.
Until some nutter comes along
and rapes the wife
and burns the house down
with the kids in it.
Nice. Charming.
You know what, David? You need
to square things with Madge.
Oh, fuck! Just look at yourself,
up on your hind legs.
This is me, all right?
It's the first honest shit
anyone's said about this.
They'd better learn to swallow.
You know what, mate?
You need to go home
and sleep this off.
Can I get two more?
Give us a kiss, then, Mouse.
Ah!
Go on, go on, go on, go on.
Quickly. Seatbelt on.
Seatbelt, Lucy.
I, um...
I slept downstairs,
didn't want to wake you.
Do I see you tonight?
Yeah, sure.
Look, I can't keep this smile going
much longer, Paul.
It's OK.
It's OK. It's over.
Are you sure about that?
Can we go home now? I'm tired.
OK.
This isn't the way home.
It's a new way.
Is a train coming?
You know how you can tell?
Listen.
I can't hear anything.
Now.
It's singing.
I can hear it.
It's coming!
Uncle Paul, it is coming.
We're just really concerned.
Yeah, I know. I know.
What are you doing, Paul?
What the fuck
do you think you're doing?
I dunno, Geoff. I really don't know.
Maybe I'm looking for closure.
That's what you're meant to do,
isn't it?
Well, you look for it
somewhere else.